


The Urban Legend Job

by Whedonista93



Series: The Urban Legend Job [1]
Category: Leverage, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-27 01:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 29,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2674193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whedonista93/pseuds/Whedonista93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Ellen married Bill Harvelle, she had a fling with John Winchester, resulting in a daughter – Jamie – who was then raised by Bobby. And Eliot Spencer is the urban legend of hunter's circles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Desperation

**Author's Note:**

> AU aspects:  
> Ellen & Jo still alive  
> Jo’s b-day changed from April 7, 1985 to April 7, 1987 (to provide adequate time for Jamie to come to be)  
> Bobby still alive  
> Roadhouse still there  
> Eliot is a retired hunter  
> ... and I'm sure there's more, but none are coming right to mind.  
> Post 10x06 "Ask Jeeves" - everything before that point is mostly canon, with the addition of Jamie.  
> Post series for Leverage

Jamie had a white-knuckled grip on her steering wheel with one hand, and an equally white-knuckled grip on her phone with the other.

She muttered under her breath, “Come on, pick up your damn phone…”

Seconds later she heard Bobby’s gruff voice, “What?”

She would’ve laughed if she wasn’t in so much pain, “Nice to hear your voice too, old man.”

“Jamie?”

“The one and only.”

“Where the hell are you, girl?”

“Oregon.”

“What in the blazes are you doing in Oregon?”

Jamie was beginning to feel light-headed, “At the moment, trying not to bleed out.”

“Balls! Girl you know better than –”

“Can you lecture me later?” she cut him off, “I need someone to patch me up. We got anyone up this way?”

“Where exactly are you?”

“Few miles outside Portland.”

She heard the sound of papers shuffling, the clacking of a keyboard, and Bobby cursing in the background before his voice came back on the line, full of anxiety, “Ain’t another hunter for about 100 miles.”

“Shit! I’m gonna be lucky if I make it 10. There’s gotta be someone closer.”

“You could always go to a hospital.”

Jamie didn’t even answer, just tightened her grip hard enough that she felt her phone start to crack and her steering wheel creaked.

Bobby cursed again, “Fine… look, there’s a guy I can send you to. I’ll text you the address. You’ll want the second floor.”

Jamie took a steadying breath, struggling to maintain her focus, “Thanks.”

 

Parker came to a dead stop so fast that Hardison plowed right into her and Eliot barely avoided plowing into Hardison.

“Damn it, Hardison! What the hell?” Eliot growled.

“Hey! Blame Parker!” Hardsion defended himself.

“Uh, Eliot?” Parker ventured instead of explaining.

“What?” Eliot snapped, side-stepping the still frozen couple.

“Why is there a dead person on our floor?”

Eliot whipped his head around to follow her gaze, and sure enough, there was a bloody, human-shaped lump sprawled just inside an open window he was sure he’d closed before they left. Eliot quickly scanned the room with his eyes, and only once he was satisfied the woman on the floor was the only uninvited guest, he made his way over to crouch next to her. That’s when he noticed the squawking phone in her limp grasp. He grabbed it and lifted it to his ear.

“Who is this?” he demanded.

The voice paused, “Eliot?”

“Bobby?!” Eliot asked in shock.

“Thank God! Please tell me she’s still alive.”

Eliot tucked the phone into his shoulder and rolled the woman over onto her back before checking her weak pulse. Noticing the poorly bandaged, gaping, still bleeding wounds in her side, he shrugged off his flannel button-up and held it against her ribs with as much pressure as he could.

He turned his attention partially back to the phone, “Yeah, she’s alive, but just barely. How long since she stopped responding?”

Bobby’s voice was strained, “About three minutes.”

Eliot carefully lifted his shirt to get a better look at her wounds. He cursed silently. He grunted, “I gotta drop the phone. I’ll call you back later.” He snapped the phone shut and shoved it in his pocket before glancing up at Hardison and Parker, who were now hovering above him, “Parker, go get the black tote from under my bathroom sink. Hardison, help me move her to a bed.”

 

About two and half hours later, picked up the phone again.

Bobby answered on the first ring, “Eliot?”

“She’s alive for now. The wounds were deep. She lost too much blood. I’m sure there’s a lot of internal bruising. She’s got a couple cracked ribs. I doubt she’ll be waking up any time soon, if at all.”

Bobby made a strangled sound, “Please tell me there’s some good news.”

Eliot sighed, “She’s breathing on her own, and it doesn’t sound too labored, so it’s unlikely any of the broken ribs pierced a lung. And she hasn’t started convulsing or anything, so I’m pretty sure there’s no internal bleeding.”

Bobby sighed, “Is there anything else you can do for her?”

Eliot scrubbed a hand across his face, “If I knew her blood type, I might be able to hook her up to a bag. Could improve her chances.”

“A negative.” Bobby answered without hesitation.

That caused Eliot to pause, “Bobby, who is she?”

Bobby’s voice came back choked, “Her name is Jamie.”

Eliot paled, “She mean something to you?”

Bobby hesitated, “Yeah.”

“Damn it! I… shit, man. I might not have been such an insensitive dick if I knew that.”

“I’d rather know the truth, boy. Just… let me know if I need to be there.”

Eliot shook his head before remembering he was on the phone, “No. Let me try the blood first. If that doesn’t work, I’ll call you.”

“Alright. Just… take care of her.”

“Of course.”

Eliot hung up and stuck his head out into the hall, “Parker!”

The thief came flying down on a harness from the ceiling just above his head, “Is she dead?”

“No.”

“Good. That would be… I don’t know. But not good.”

“I have a job for you.”

Parker flipped right-side up and dropped to her feet, unhooking her harness, “Do I get to steal something?”

Eliot nodded, “Blood.”

Parker headed toward the door, “Interesting.”

Eliot glanced back toward the bed, “And morphine!” he called after the little blonde thief.


	2. Eliot freaking Spencer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Before Ellen married Bill Harvelle, she and John Winchester had a… something. Which resulted in yours truly. Bobby raised me."

Parker had been back in less than an hour, and Eliot pretended not to hear her griping to Hardison that it had been insultingly easy. Eliot’s attention was on the woman in his bed. He’d discarded her ruined, bloody clothes and changed her into a pair of his own sweats and one of his old t-shirts. While Parker was gone he’d had Hardison help him switch out the sheets. Now, with the blood bag hooked into her arm, she was regaining some color and breathing easier. The signs were good, but he wasn’t calling Bobby until he knew for sure the girl was going to wake up. There was no sense in giving the older man any false hope. So Eliot settled his ass into a chair next to the bed and his eyes on the unconscious hunter.

 

Jamie’s side was on fire, and her head was pounding, but both sensations were dulled by… something. She couldn’t put her finger on what exactly. She recognized the feeling of slowly coming back to consciousness and took a moment, trying to remember what had happened. She had gotten her ass handed to her by a wendigo. She cursed internally, remembering she’d still have to go back and deal with it, maybe even have to track it again first, as soon she was back on her feet. The last thing she remembered was Bobby’s voice demanding that she to stay awake as she collapsed off the fire escape and through the second-story window above some restaurant. Her eyes slowly drifted open and were met by a pair of sharp blue ones.

 

Eliot sat up the moment her breathing changed. Her eyelids twitched and he could tell she was thinking, trying to get a grip on her surroundings. After a couple minutes her eyelids drifted open and he was met by startlingly green eyes. He watched in amusement as she sized him up in a way only a hunter could.

He grinned, trying to put her at ease, “Mornin’ Sleeping Beauty.”

She frowned, “What day is it?”

“About 5 a.m. Sunday morning. Found you passed out on my floor Thursday night.”

She cringed, “I’ve been out two days?! Shit.”

Eliot raised an eyebrow, “With as much blood as you lost, you’re lucky you woke up at all.”

“Doubt luck had anything to do with it.” she muttered.

“Wanna tell me what a little thing like you was doing hunting a wendigo on your own?”

Jamie’s head snapped toward him, “How did you – I didn’t tell…”

Eliot raised a hand to cut her off, “Very distinctive wounds.”

Jamie pursed her lips, but nodded, sinking back against the pillow.

“You look kind of familiar…” Eliot offered.

Jamie’s eyebrows lifted.

“Come on, you think Bobby would send you here if he didn’t trust me?”

Jamie shrugged and struggled to sit up. He stood up and helped her before returning to his chair. Finally she sighed, “Jamie.”

“I know. Bobby told me.” He pressed on, “Your whole family hunters?”

Jamie chuckled, realizing Bobby probably hadn’t shared a last name, “All of my families are hunters.”

His forehead scrunched in confusion.

“I’m not putting all my cards on the table when you haven’t even played a name yet.”

His grin returned, “Eliot Spencer.”

 

Jamie held a stoic expression only through sheer will. Because in all honesty, she wanted to scream the way Chuck said Becky had when she found out the Supernatural books were true.

“What are you doing helping me?” Jamie finally managed, “You’re out… like, actually out.”

Eliot shrugged, “I owe Bobby. And it’s not like I was gonna let you bleed out on my floor even if I didn’t.”

Jamie nodded, “Thanks for that, by the way.”

Eliot nodded, “No problem.”

Silence hung for a moment.

Eliot cleared his throat, “So, your family… you gonna tell me or are you gonna keep me hanging?”

Jamie grinned tiredly, already feeling exhausted. For some reason, though, she decided to tell him the truth instead of the generic answer most hunters got, “Which one do you want?”

Eliot eyed her quizzically.

She smiled and sighed in mock suffering, “I’ve got three.”

“How about all of them?”

“Harvelle. Winchester. Singer.”

Eliot’s eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline, “Uh…”

Jamie laughed, then winced at the pain. Eliot started to move toward her, but she waved him off. She took a deep breath, “Before Ellen married Bill Harvelle, she and John Winchester had a… something. Which resulted in yours truly. Bobby raised me.”

Eliot sat back, “Huh… I’ve been out less than 10 years, and they’ve all been in the game a hell of a lot longer than that. How did I not know that? Hunters are some of the worst gossips on the planet.”

Jamie shrugged, “There was some gossip at first, when I was a baby, but that was a long time ago. As time went on… I was just Bobby’s daughter.”

“He ever try to keep you out of hunting?”

Jamie shook her head, “Tried to keep me on the book end for a while. Told me he knew from early on that it would never work.”

Eliot nodded.

Jamie sat up straighter, “Shit! Where’s my phone? He’s probably losing it.”

Eliot fished her phone out of his pocket and handed it over, “He was last time I talked to him. I’ll go get you some food.”

At the word, Jamie’s stomach lurched and she realized she was starving. She nodded gratefully as she lifted the phone and Eliot left the room.

Jamie punched the speed dial and Bobby picked up groggily on the second ring, “Eliot, what happened? Is she okay?”

Jamie smiled, “I’m fine.”

She heard his breath rush out in relief, “You had me scared half to death, girl!”

“I’m good. Side hurts like a bitch, but I’m pretty sure I’m on a morphine drip.” Jamie eyed the bags she was hooked up to suspiciously.

Bobby chuckled and muttered, “Why doesn’t that surprise me? Spencer always could get his hands on just about anything.”

“Yeah, about that. What the hell?!”

“What?”

“Eliot freaking Spencer, seriously?!”

She could swear she heard Bobby’s shrug, “You said 10 miles.”

Jamie let her head thud back against the wall.

“And what’s wrong with Spencer?”

“He’s like the urban legend of hunters circles. No one wants to believe he’s real ‘til they come face-to-face with him then they’re in god-like awe or scared shitless. He’s like the Hetty Lange of our world.”

“The what?”

“Seriously… you’ve gotta pull your nose out of a book and turn the T.V. on every now and then.”

Bobby chuckled, “So you’re tryin’ to tell me you’re scared of him?”

“No!” Jamie protested defensively. “It’s just… it’s weird. And I was conscious long enough you could have given me a heads up.”

“You were also conscious long enough to tell me what happened, and you didn’t do that.” Bobby retorted.

Jamie groaned, “Fair enough.”

“You’re staying with him ‘til he says you’re in shape to go again.”

“Oh hell no!”

“That or I’m sending your brothers up there to haul your scrawny ass home.”

Jamie groaned again, “You didn’t tell them, did you?”

“I didn’t tell anyone. But if you try to take off before Spencer says you’re ready, I’m telling everyone. And then you’re still coming home.”

“Fine. You win.”

“Tell Spencer to call me soon.” Bobby said smugly.

“You got it, old man.”

Bobby’s voice softened, “Seriously, girl… don’t push yourself.”

Jamie sighed, “I won’t, Dad.”


	3. Do What I Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So they think I’m a thief and a mercenary.”
> 
> Eliot huffed a silent chuckle, “Pretty much.”
> 
> Jamie shrugged, “Close enough."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving! In the holiday mood, I'm feeling generous. In other words, my beloved readers, get three new chapters today! ;) Enjoy! Comment! Kudos!

**Chapter 3: Do What I Do**

Eliot pondered the hunter on the phone in the other room as he pulled out the leftover stew he’d made yesterday and set it on the stove to simmer. He should’ve guessed who she was. It’d been years since he’d seen Ellen, but a man didn’t forget a woman with those looks and that attitude. Jamie had Ellen’s build, dark hair, and lightly tanned complexion. And her eyes matched her oldest brothers. Eliot had done a few hunts with the Winchesters back in the day. Not many, but enough to know they were very, very good.

_Besides that, only a Winchester would have that many anti-possession tattoos_ , Eliot thought with a smirk. He’d counted three – One on her left side at the top of her ribs, one on the inside of her right ankle, and another on her right hip. Eliot was out of the game, but he wasn’t stupid enough to let himself get completely behind on what was going on, and while no one seemed to ever know the whole story, the Winchesters were mentioned frequently.

Eliot absentmindedly pulled a tray out of the cupboard, along with dishes, followed by utensils out of the drawer. He plated and buttered a warm slice of bread and poured a glass of milk before pouring the hot stew into the bowl.

Walking toward the door, he heard a muffled, “I won’t, Dad.” followed by the phone snapping shut and a heavy sigh. He balanced the tray in one hand and pushed the door open with the other.

Jamie looked up and the sniffed, “Oh… that smells awesome.”

Eliot grinned and set the tray on her lap. She immediately dug into the stew and tore at the bread. She paused and wrinkled her nose at the glass of milk, “Does Portland not have beer?”

“Of course Portland has beer. We live above a microbrewery.” Parker’s matter-of-fact voice came from the doorway as she bounced in and sat on the corner of the bed, eyeing Jamie curiously.

Jamie turned an accusing gaze on Eliot, “You live above a microbrewery and I get milk?”

“Actually we own a microbrewery.” Hardison corrected as he came into the room and pulled another chair up next to Eliot.

Jamie’s accusing gaze became an accusing glare, but the glare vanished and was replaced by pure horror as she looked up at Hardison. She pushed herself back against the headboard and Eliot watched her eyes flit around and her hands clench in a way that told him she was looking for her gun. He grunted quietly to get her attention and nodded toward the nightstand. She nearly lurched for the drawer and had the .45 aimed steadily at Hardison faster than most people would have thought possible.

Hardison pulled short of sitting down and held his hands up, “Woah, mama. Eliot, you see this? Why are you just sitting there?”

Eliot remained silent, willing to let whatever this was play out until someone was actually in danger.

“You’re dead.” Jamie said, her voice shaking only slightly, but the gun remaining steady.

“I’m not thinkin’ he is who you think he is, darlin’.” Eliot said steadily.

Jamie glanced desperately at Eliot.

“When did whoever you’re thinking of die?”

“Spring 2007.”

“I spent most of the Spring of 2007 holed up hacking NASA satellites. Area 51, aliens, all that jazz.” Hardison defended himself. Jamie eyed him with a calculating gleam in her eye.

“There’s no such thing as aliens. Do we really have to go over this again?” Eliot growled.

 

Taking in how nervous the kid was, the fact that everything about his body language indicated honesty, and the nonchalance in Eliot’s posture (aside from the annoyed tension at the mention of aliens – Jamie would have to remember to tell him later about the time Dean got abducted by fairies), Jamie decided there was no way this guy was Talley, but the resemblance was disconcerting. She lowered the gun, but set it within reach.

She ran a hand through her hair, “Screw the beer. I need whiskey.”

Eliot just smirked, “No alcohol until your blood level is back to normal and you’re not on such strong painkillers. Besides, it’s not even 6 a.m.”

Jamie rolled her eyes and reached over wincing at the pull in her side now that the adrenaline was draining, to unhook the morphine drip before returning to her stew. Eliot chuckled as Hardison and Parker both stared at her with wide eyes.

“Eliot, I think I pulled my stitches.”

Eliot groaned and reached into a tote at the side of the bed, coming up with a needle before moving her tray off to the side and rucking the side of her shirt up. Sure enough, blood was dripping slowly down her side again.

“Want me to numb it?” He asked, threading the needle.

Jamie shook her head, “There’s still enough morphine in my system.”

Eliot nodded and set to work, “So what’d Bobby have to say?”

“He wants you to call him.” Jamie answered too casually.

Eliot’s eyes narrowed, “And?”

“And said I have to stay here until you clear me.” Jamie grumbled.

Eliot nodded, “I’ll call him in a few hours.”

Having dutifully delivered her messages, Jamie curiously eyed the two new comers.

Eliot noticed, “My team. Parker,” he gestured to the blonde, “And Hardison.” he gestured to Talley’s lookalike.

Hardison leaned forward and extended a hand, “Alec.”

Jamie shifted enough to shake his hand, impressed with his guts. Most people wouldn’t want to come within reach right after she’d had a gun on them, “Nice to meet you. Sorry if I ruined your floor. And sorry about the…” she gestured to the gun.

Alec waved a hand dismissively, “No big.”

Parker tilted her head curiously, “What’d you mean about Eliot being the urban legend of hitters circles?”

Jamie raised her eyebrows. She glanced toward Eliot who shook his head almost imperceptibly. _So his team doesn’t know about the things that go bump in the night,_ Jamie thought.

Parker shrugged, “We eavesdropped.”

“Damn it, Hardison! I expect that from Parker, but you know better. Privacy, man!” Eliot growled.

Hardison shrugged unapologetically, “Age of the geek.”

Jamie looked at Parker, “How much did you hear?”

“Just what you said.” Parker answered. “So why’s Eliot like an urban legend?”

Jamie thought fast and shrugged, “How long have you been working with him?”

“Seven years.”

“And how often do your bad guys cringe at his name?”

“A lot. Oooh! I get it.”

Jamie smiled at the woman as Eliot finished tying off the stitches. Eliot smiled at her gratefully as he took her tray and exited the room again.

“So, you’ve worked with Eliot?” Alec ventured.

Jamie grinned at the not-so-subtle probe, “Not personally.”

“But you’re a hitter.”

Jamie shrugged, “You could say that.”

“You do what Eliot does.” he tried again.

“She does what I used to do.” Eliot said as he reentered the room.

“Oh.” Parker and Hardison breathed quietly, simultaneously, and then let it drop. Jamie would have to ask about that.

“And now, she needs to rest. You guys can interrogate her later.”

 

Eliot saw the confusion on Jamie’s face and knew he had to get the other two out so they could come up with a cover. As they left he called after Hardison’s  back, “No eavesdropping! I find a bug in my room and you’re a dead man!”

Eliot closed the door and returned to his chair.

“What you used to do?” Jamie asked.

Eliot shrugged, “It wasn’t a lie and I knew they would draw their own conclusions.”

Jamie nodded, “So what do they think I do?”

“First few years I was out, I made quite the reputation for myself as a retrieval specialist and hired muscle.”

Jamie read between the lines, “So they think I’m a thief and a mercenary.”

Eliot huffed a silent chuckle, “Pretty much.”

Jamie shrugged, “Close enough. So what exactly do you do now?”

Eliot smiled, a real smile this time, “Our old boss liked to say we pick up where the law leaves off.”

“Like hunters.”

Eliot nodded, “But we deal with humans. The rich, the powerful, the corrupt, they take what they want because they think they can. We steal it back and provide leverage so they can’t do it again.”

“And you’re the muscle of the operation.”

Eliot laughed, “What else?”

“And the other two?”

“Parker is twenty pounds of crazy in a five pound bag, but she’s the best damn thief in the world. She’s also turning out to be quite the mastermind con artist. And Hardison’s a world-class hacker, probably the smartest man I know, even if I’d never admit it to his face. Who’d you think he was?”

Jamie paled and took a deep breath, “Guy named Jake Talley. Killed my brother, and opened a gate to hell before my brother filled him full of lead.”

“Killed… I didn’t realize any of your –”

Jamie raised a hand, “He’s not dead. Not anymore.”

“Anymore?”

Jamie smiled sadly, “We’ve all died more time than any of us care to count. Just hasn’t stuck yet.”

Eliot wanted to ask more, but something in her tone or face made him drop it.

After a minute she asked, “Ever been up against someone who turned out to be a demon?”

Eliot sighed and suddenly felt exhausted, “So far I’ve managed to steer the team away from those.” Then curiosity lit his eyes, “Richard Roman Enterprises, a few years back. We almost went after him. But something didn’t sit right.”

Jamie shuddered involuntarily, “It’s a good thing you didn’t. You all would’ve ended up dead.”

“Demon?”

“Worse. Leviathan.”

“I never –”

“Long story short, they’re old. Very old. And very powerful. They were extinct on earth before that incident and they are again now.”

“You guys got rid of them.” It wasn’t a question.

Jamie didn’t deny it, just told him sadly, “Dean ended up in Purgatory for a year because of it.”

Eliot didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. They just moved on to their cover story. It wasn’t far from the truth. They told Parker and Hardison that Eliot used to work with Jamie’s dad, and Eliot owed him. They explained Jamie’s wounds by saying had been attacked by a bear while she was tracking a militia.

 

“Sorry, but I don’t think we ever actually caught your name.” Hardison said that afternoon.

Jamie smiled, “Jamie Winchester.”

Hardison gave her a weird look, but just nodded before heading into the kitchen for an orange soda.

Eliot followed him, “What was that look for, man?”

Hardison raised an eyebrow at the hitter, “You know she’s using an alias, right?”

Eliot scoffed, “No she’s not.”

Hardison shook his head, “Whatever, man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is everyone awake at 5:30 in the morning? Eliot’s awake because he’s Eliot. As for Parker and Hardison, I don’t know. Use your imagination.


	4. Supernatural

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harsidon walked out looking like he’d raided her brothers’ closet: a leather jacket covered a flannel buttoned halfway up over a gray t-shirt, well-worn denim had replaced his usual designer jeans, combat boots covered his feet, a dagger stuck out of the sheath at his waist, and an anti-possession charm hung around his neck.

Two weeks had passed and Jamie was getting restless.

The Leverage team had been good about keeping her occupied. She’d helped them research their latest mark and served as home base, running the computers and the coms from Portland while they worked in Seattle. She was both frustrated and touched that they kept sending one of their waitresses up to check on her. She certainly didn’t mind not having to cook her own food, though. And the beer was awesome (she’d quit the morphine cold turkey and been on nothing but ibuprofen since she woke up), not that she’d ever admit it to Hardison. She got almost as much entertainment from teasing him as Eliot did.

But she hadn’t killed anything in weeks. She hadn’t hit so much as a heavy bag in weeks. So, yeah, she was restless.

She was sitting next to Eliot on the couch half perusing her journal entries on wendigoes, half watching the movie Parker had in, when Harsidon walked out looking like he’d raided her brothers’ closet: a leather jacket covered a flannel buttoned halfway up over a gray t-shirt, well-worn denim had replaced his usual designer jeans, combat boots covered his feet, a dagger stuck out of the sheath at his waist, and an anti-possession charm hung around his neck. She nearly choked on her beer.

She kicked Eliot’s leg and hissed, “I thought you said they didn’t know about this stuff!”

Eliot looked confused, and hissed back, “They don’t!”

She jerked her chin toward Hardison.

Eliot’s eyes bugged out, “What the hell are you wearing, man?”

Hardison looked over at them, “You like it? It’s my costume for the convention this weekend.”

Jamie’s eyes narrowed at the book tucked under her arm, a sickening suspicion sneaking up on her, “What convention?”

Hardison held the book up and confirmed Jamie’s suspicion, “Supernatural convention.” Then he grinned smugly at Jamie, “Still gonna try to tell me your name ain’t an alias?”

“My name is not an alias.” She said calmly.

“Damn. Cold, woman. Just, whatever. Carver Edlund’s even supposed to be at this one!” Hardison continued on excitedly, “He’s supposed to be releasing a book of deleted scenes and there’s even a rumor he’s gonna start writing new ones.”

“I’m going to _kill_ Chuck!” Jamie burst out as she snatched her phone off the coffee table. Hardison jumped back at her vehemence and Eliot looked at her curiously. When she ignored him in favor of punching buttons on her phone, he gestured for the book, which Hardison tossed to him.

Dean answered on the third ring, “Hello.”

“Where are you?” Jamie snapped.

“Who is it?” she heard Sam ask in the background.

“Good to hear your voice, too, sis.” Dean answered them both.

“Put her on speaker.” Sam said.

She heard shuffling and then extra background noise as Dean did.

“Where are you?” she asked again.

“Southeast Oklahoma. Just broke an old Indian curse in the Blackjack Mountain area.” Sam answered.

“You need to be in Portland.” she demanded.

“We can be there in two or three days.”

“Make it two.”

“What’s going on, Jai?” Dean asked

Jamie hesitated, “Just… get here.”

She heard Dean start to argue and then Sam cutting him off, “Okay. See you soon.”

She snapped the phone shut and had to resist the urge to throw it across the room. She felt Eliot’s gaze on her and turned to face him. He had Hardison’s book in his hands and an incredulous look on his face.

He held it up, “Wanna explain?”

Jamie glanced toward Parker and Hardison, “In private.”

 

Eliot quietly helped Jamie into the kitchen. Thankfully, Hardison and Parker didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary besides Jamie’s sudden bad mood. Eliot lifted her gently onto the counter and she leaned back against the wall as he waited patiently for her to explain.

When she finally spoke, it was barely above a whisper, but Eliot could see the barely controlled rage behind her eyes.

“Those books,” she nodded toward the book still in his hand, “are my life. My brothers’ lives. Carver Edlund, the author, his real name is Chuck and he’s a prophet. He wrote the books before he knew that. He thought his visions were just dreams until we tracked him down.”

Eliot looked down at the book then back at her, “So these are true?”

Jamie nodded, “Every miserable word.”

“And that was your brothers you called?”

Jamie nodded again, but this time she almost grinned, “Yeah. Last time we came across one of these conferences, we had to take out a whole hoard of ghosts. Sammy told Chuck that if he didn’t stop writing the books, and I quote, ‘We have guns, and we will find you.’ I honestly thought he was smart enough we wouldn’t have to carry through. And besides that, he kinda just vanished after the last apocalypse.”

“The last – I’ve kept my ear to the ground, but I’m starting to think I’ve been too far out of the game.”

“Maybe a bit.”

Eliot shook his head, “So Hardison…”

“When he finds out all this is real… he’ll either be more prepared than most, or way harder to convince.”

“When?” Eliot raised an eyebrow.

The look Jamie gave him was almost patronizing.

He sighed, “I know… just… I want to shield them from it as long as I can.”


	5. Convention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Okay, Chuck… you remember that whole ‘prophet of the Lord writing the book of Winchester’ or whatever the hell Cas called it? You know our lives better than we do. You already know Hardison isn’t Talley, and you know we know that too. Don’t try to change the subject.”
> 
> “Winchester Gospels.” Chuck corrected weakly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the third of today's promised chapters. Happy Thanksgiving!

Hardison cast a disbelieving eye over the two men standing in his doorway. They were both _huge_. But especially the second one. And they both looked dangerous. That might have to with the fact that within two seconds of opening the door, they’d both had guns trained on his face.

He gulped then called into the room behind him, “Uh, Jamie! Think these may be friends of yours!” And his voice did _not_ crack like a scared little schoolgirl.

He saw in his peripheral as Jamie rounded the corner and paused momentarily. Then, before he could blink, she had hurtled herself in between him and the gunmen fearlessly. She reached up and grasped the barrels of the guns and forced them toward the ground, and surprisingly, the giants let her. Alec was not even ashamed to cower a little behind her. She was almost as scary as the guys. And she wasn’t scared of them.

 

Jamie met first Dean and then Sam’s eyes, trying to convey reassurance, but never loosening her grip on their gun barrels.

Alec seemed to gain enough confidence to speak with her in between him and the guns, “What in the hell is with everyone pointing guns at me lately? And I ain’t even conning anyone who’s pointing them at me!”

Sam’s eyes left hers and he glared over her head at Hardison then he looked back at Jamie.

She shook her head, grip tightening on the guns, “It’s not him.”

Sam looked understandably wary, “You’re sure?”

“Talley is dead. Alec just has the misfortune of looking like him and crossing our path.”

Dean’s calculating gaze swept over the hacker and Jamie let his gun go when she felt him relax. He tucked it back into his waistband and addressed Alec, “You look too much like the guy that killed Sam.” he explained, nodding to his little brother.

Hardison blanched a little.

 Jamie turned her full attention to Sam, “Sammy, it’s not him.”

Sam looked her in the eyes and the gun dropped a little further, as Jamie swayed slightly.

She looked down to where the blood was blossoming on her shirt, “Shit.” she looked over her shoulder at Alec, “Hardison, go tell Eliot I pulled my damn stitches again.”

Alec scampered off obediently, probably grateful for the excuse to run away.

“You're hurt.” Sam said accusingly.

“No shit, Sherlock.” she said, even as she swayed more obviously.

Sam tucked his gun back into his waistband and scooped her into his arms before she could protest. Honestly, she was too dizzy to protest anyway. She just directed him into the living room.

“What happened?” Dean demanded as he followed.

“That’s not why I called.” Jamie answered.

“What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Don’t know about that.” Eliot cut in as he came out of the kitchen, needle in hand. “You might want to send them after it.”

Jamie glared at him as Sam set her down and asked, “After what?”

Eliot raised an eyebrow and smirked at her, “Tell ya when there’s no civilians in earshot.”

“Like hell you will.” Jamie snapped up at him as he lifted her shirt.

“I’d like to see you stop me, darlin’.”

“Civilians?” Sam asked.

“Alec and Parker, Eliot’s partners. They don’t have a clue about our world.”

Jamie continued glaring as Sam and Dean finally actually took a look at the man stitching their sister up.

Dean’s jaw dropped, “Spencer?”

Eliot nodded toward him as he worked, “Dean. Long time no see.”

Dean nodded back, “Heard you got out.”

“I am out.”

“Then why are we here?”

Eliot nodded toward Jamie, “Little sister decided to try and get herself killed, and I owed Bobby. I was the only one she could get to in time.”

Jamie’s glare intensified, “And I repeat: Not. Why. I. Called.”

Sam sighed, “Then why did you?”

Alec chose that moment to reemerge, decked out in his convention costume, book in hand.

“For that.” Jamie answered, pointing. “We may have to carry out the threat we made after the last one.”

 

Jamie felt herself mirroring Dean’s expression as he glared at the row of Impalas and even a couple Chevelles in front of the downtown hotel. It was just unsettling. She had chuckled when she introduced Sam and Dean to Alec and he had seen Baby, though. He honestly thought she was pulling some elaborate con on him.

Eliot came up next to her and wrapped an arm around her waist. She wanted to glare, but her traitorous body leaned into him instead. He had argued that she shouldn’t be going in the first place, but she had stubbornly held her ground, so he insisted on going with her. And right now, she was grateful, because she was already starting to feel her side burning.

“Let’s go find Chuck and get this over with.” Dean growled.

Sam and Jamie nodded their agreement, and they moved toward the entrance, Eliot never leaving Jamie’s side, but keeping an eye on Hardison rushing excitedly ahead of them with Parker by his side. As they stepped into the lobby, Jamie suddenly stopped and braced herself against a pillar as she started laughing. It hurt like hell, and if she wasn’t careful she was going to pop her stitches yet again, but she couldn’t help it. Eliot, Dean and Sam all looked at her like she’d lost it.

“What… if… Becky is here?” Jamie managed to gasp out. And then Dean was laughing against the pillar next to her, and Sam was glaring at them both.

As Jamie slowly collected herself, she looked up to meet Eliot’s curious gaze and explained, “Becky is Sam’s crazy fan-girl ex-wife.”

Eliot’s lips quirked into an amused grin.

Sam nearly choked, “I thought we agreed to never talk about that.”

“You did.” Dean corrected.

“We didn’t.” Jamie added.

“Let’s just find Chuck.” Sam started to stalk off, only to have the woman of the hour appear in front of him.

“Sam! Oh, I knew you couldn’t stay away from me!” Becky squealed as she launched herself at Sam.

Jamie and Dean sobered and hauled themselves upright, getting a quizzical look from Eliot.

“We tease him about it mercilessly. We’re kind of asses to her when she actually shows her face, though. The whole wife thing? Drugged him with a demon potion. Didn’t exactly endear her to us.” Jamie explained as she walked toward her brother.

Jamie stepped right up Sam’s side, gripped Becky’s shoulder and pushed back with enough force to make the younger woman stumble.

She smiled faux-sweetly, “Becky, remember the rules about touching my brothers?”

Becky looked sheepish, “Uh… don’t.”

“Or?”

“Or you’ll feed me to a wendigo.” she sighed.

Jamie nodded, “And just your luck, I happen to know where a live one is right now.”

Becky paled. Sam and Dean raised eyebrows at her, which she ignored.

“Where’s Chuck?”

“Chuck? Why would you ask about Chuck? Chuck’s not here. No one’s seen Chuck since –”  

Eliot cut her off, “Becky, was it? You’re talkin’ way too fast. You wanna lie, you gotta slow down.”

Becky’s eyes widened appreciatively as she took Eliot in, “Who are you?”

“No one you need to know.” Jamie answered coldly. “I’m not gonna ask again. Where’s Chuck?”

“Back garden.”

“Good girl, now scamper off.”

Becky looked like she was going to protest, but Eliot cut her off again, “She hasn’t hit anything in weeks, and she’d getting a mite touchy. I suggest you listen.”

With one last backward glance, Becky scampered off to greet incoming guests.

 

Jamie spotted Chuck first. Unfortunately, Hardison had him cornered.

She turned to Eliot, “Unless you want him figuring out about all this a lot sooner than you want, I suggest you run some interference.”

“On it, darlin’.” He was off and two minutes later, steering Hardison back inside.

Chuck didn’t see them coming and didn’t even have time scream before Sam clamped a hand over his mouth as he and Dean each clamped a hand around his arms and lifted him off his feet before depositing him into a secluded alcove of the garden. He stumbled and turned to face them. The panic on his face melted into relief, quickly followed by wariness.

“Hey guys! Good to see you!” He managed to sound bright and panicked at the same time.

Dean raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, “Cut the bull, Chuck.”

“Don’t even act like you didn’t see us coming.” Sam added.

Chuck raised his hands, whether in surrender or defense, Jamie wasn’t sure, “Okay, alright. Look, there’s a perfectly logical explanation for this.”

“Love to hear it.” Jamie said with her most charming smile.

“So, that guy looked disturbingly like Talley.” Chuck tried steering the conversation.

“Okay, Chuck… you remember that whole ‘prophet of the Lord writing the book of Winchester’ or whatever the hell Cas called it? You know our lives better than we do. You already know Hardison isn’t Talley, and you know we know that too. Don’t try to change the subject.”

“Winchester Gospels.” Chuck corrected weakly.

Jamie just glared.

Chuck sighed in defeat, “Well, you guys remember this was how I made a living.”

“I remember talking about what could happen if you started writing again.” Sam said.

Chuck blanched, “Right. But see, you never said anything about the conventions. And technically the whole deleted scenes thing is just part of what I wrote before.”

“Did you not learn your lesson about the conventions last time?” Dean scoffed.

“And you know damn well we meant you wouldn’t be publishing a _nything_ not already public access. It ending up in the internet was bad enough.” Jamie threw in.

“And do you even want us to start on where the hell have you been the last few years?” Sam asked.

“We could’ve used you.” Jamie said quietly.

Chuck had the grace to look ashamed, “I know… I, I’m sorry. I just… I can’t explain.”

“You know what, Chuck? I don’t give a damn.” Dean said. “But from here on out, no more publishing. Any freaking thing. These are our lives, damn it!”

“And if you’re gonna be around,” Jamie interjected, “have the decency to stay in touch!”

Chuck took a deep breath, “You’re right. All of you. I’m sorry.”

Everyone’s emotions tempered down a bit and the tension relaxed as Eliot stepped silently into the alcove and right up behind Jamie. She sagged back against him gratefully. Eliot eyed Chuck calculatingly.

“Mr. Spencer, pleasure to meet you face-to-face.” Chuck nodded.

Eliot tensed.

“Prophet, remember?” Jamie reminded him and he relaxed a bit. Then Jamie tensed, “Wait. Why are you seeing Eliot? He’s out of the game.”

Chuck smiled sadly, “For now.”


	6. Lines in the Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can leave.”
> 
> Jamie looked a little startled.
> 
> Eliot rushed to pull his foot out of his mouth, “If you want to. You don’t have to."

Hardison spent a week after the convention griping about the deleted scenes not being released and the continuation rumors being squashed. Then he spent another week after that raving about the fact that he actually met Carver Edlund.

Jamie was roughly two sentences away from knocking him out cold when Eliot told her she could start using the gym he had set up in the basement. He watched her like a hawk for the first week she was down there, but then he let her have it to herself for three days. After that he spent a week sparring with her and she began to see where his reputation had come from. He was far more calculated, precise, and efficient than any hunter she’d ever encountered. The things he taught her would come in handy in the future. Though not with the damn wendigo.  She’d given into Eliot’s insistence she tell her brothers about the wendigo.

_“It’ll be a month at least before you’re in any shape to even consider trying to go after the thing again. You really wanna risk innocent lives for your pride?” he hissed._

_She couldn’t even muster a glare. She knew he was right._

_She turned to her brothers, “Wendigo is camping out in a cave about 5 miles through dense forest, 15 miles north of city limits.”_

_“You went after a wendigo on your own?” Dean fumed._

_Jamie glared at her brother defiantly._

_“Fine… just, what else?”_

_“It’s old. And it’s strong. Faster than usual. Watch each other’s backs.”_

_She’d gotten the call that is was dead two days later._

 

One month and three weeks after she’d quite literally crashed into his life, Eliot steeled himself and approached her in the kitchen one morning.

She poured an extra mug of coffee and held it out behind her without even turning around. He grinned as he took a sip. Strong, hot, and just a splash of cream. Perfect.

He took a deep breath when she turned to face him, “Mornin’.”

“Morning,” she smiled, “How long have you been up?”

Eliot shrugged, “A couple hours.”

“The lack of time you spend sleeping cannot be healthy.” Jamie told him incredulously.

“Probably not.” he grinned.

They leaned against the counter together, shoulders barely brushing.

“Eliot, what is it?”

Eliot chuckled. No one had ever figured him as quickly and as thoroughly as she had. He attributed part of to the fact that she was one of the few people who knew every part of history (it had been disconcertingly easy to open up to her – especially after she’d caught him holed up with the Supernatural books he’d pilfered from Hardison). But he attributed a much bigger part of it to her just being her. She just knew him. And honestly, it seriously scared the hell out of him.

“You still with me, El?” She nudged his shoulder with her own.

“Yeah. Sorry. I, uh…” He took a deep breath and just spit it out, “You can leave.”

Jamie looked a little startled.

Eliot rushed to pull his foot out of his mouth, “If you want to. You don’t have to. You’re welcome here as long as you want, whenever you want. But… you can go. You could’ve gone a week ago. I just… well, I’m kind of a selfish bastard and I like having you around.”

 

Jamie smiled gently as Eliot’s usually calm demeanor cracked and his words rushed out, toppling over one another.

She leaned against him, “I need to. I… I love being here. But I need to go.”

She felt him nod, “I get it.”

She forced herself to lift her head off his shoulder and shift so she stood in front of him, meeting his eyes, “I don’t think you do. So I need you to let me explain.”

Eliot nodded.

Jamie took a deep breath, “I love it here. Running cons with your team is the most fun I’ve had in years. This feels like home in a way nowhere but Bobby’s and the Roadhouse have before. But I can’t give up hunting. It’s too much a part of who I am. And you’re out. That draws lines in the sand. And those lines get harder to not to cross every day. Alec still thinks I’m yanking his chain about my name and my brothers, and I can’t convince him otherwise without exposing him to a world that I want to protect him from as much as you do. Parker is more observant than anyone ever gives her credit for and she asks questions I just can’t answer. The longer I stay here, the more danger you’re all in. Too many of the things that go bump in the night have it out for anyone with my family name.” She paused and took another deep breath, “If I stay, you get dragged back in, and if you get dragged back in, Alec and Parker will be right behind you.”

Eliot swallowed hard, and managed a small nod. She could see in his eyes that he really did understand. She smiled sadly before following through on the urge to step forward and press her lips to his. He kissed her back briefly before she pulled back and walked out of the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later, she’d said goodbye to Parker and Hardison, her duffle was tossed onto her back seat, and her ’69 Chevelle was roaring out of Portland and toward South Dakota.


	7. The Roadhouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jo absentmindedly served drinks until she heard the roar of Jamie’s Chevelle, and she was around the bar and out the door before anyone could blink.

“Young lady, I talked to your brothers. I know you are not going straight to Bobby’s without stopping in here first.” Ellen’s voice crackled a bit over the phone.

Jamie stifled a groan and mentally recalculated her route, knowing it would only add an hour or two, and Ellen wouldn’t take any of her excuses, “Of course not. Be there in time for dinner.”

“Good. See you then.”

Ellen hung up before Jamie could respond. She threw her phone onto the passenger seat in frustration. If Ellen had talked to the boys, she knew Jamie had been hurt. Her brothers had never been able to keep a secret from Ellen… except when Jo was involved. She didn’t think she’d ever understand how Jo could bat her eyelashes and make Dean do whatever the hell she wanted him to. Jamie shook her head and cleared those thoughts. She was _not_ going down that train of thought with her brother and sister. Even if they weren’t related, it was disturbing.

 

“JoAnna Beth Harvelle, get your ass away from that door. She’ll get here when she gets here and meanwhile, we got customers!” Ellen called across the bar.

Jo reluctantly pulled herself away from the door and stationed herself behind the bar as her mother returned to the kitchen. She remained distracted, though. It had been months since Jamie had been back by the Roadhouse. Normally, Jo resented when Ellen meddled, but tonight she was grateful, because she knew damn well her sister hadn’t had any intention of stopping in Nebraska on her way back to Bobby’s. The boys hadn’t told Ellen everything, and Ellen hadn’t told Jo even everything the boys had shared, but Jo knew whatever had happened had been bad.

Jo absentmindedly served drinks until she heard the roar of Jamie’s Chevelle, and she was around the bar and out the door before anyone could blink.

 

Jamie had barely managed to close her door when she turned around to a blonde streak flying at her. She caught Jo as her younger sister launched herself at her.

Jamie looked down at the blonde head and laughed, “Miss me much?”

Jo pulled back and punched her in the arm, “You haven’t been back in almost 6 months!”

Jamie winced, “Ouch.”

Jo just raised her eyebrows, “Even the boys visit more often than that.”

“And we’re not talking about why that is.”

Jo blushed.

“Besides, you know how mom is…”

Jo sighed, “Yeah. I’d live with Bobby too if I could.”

“No you wouldn’t. You love the Roadhouse too much.”

Jo just rolled her eyes, which was as good as outright agreement.

Jamie slung an arm around her sister's shoulders, “Come on. I need food.”

 

Ellen watched her daughters walk into the Roadhouse arm in arm and let a small smile pull at her lips before schooling her features and pushing out of the kitchen. She didn’t say a word as she set a double-bacon cheeseburger and fries in front of her oldest and raised an eyebrow at her youngest. Jo rushed back behind the bar and put a beer in front of Jamie before reluctantly turning her attention back to the other customers.

“Thanks, Ellen.” Jamie nodded toward her mother as she took a bite of the burger.

Ellen shook her head, “You keep eating like that and you’re gonna end up as big as a house.”

Jamie grinned cheekily, “That’s why I hunt.”

Ellen let out a frustrated huff of breath, “We’ll talk after close. Find something to entertain yourself ‘til then.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Jamie finished her food, swallowed the final swig of her beer, and then entertained herself by helping Jo tend the bar.

 

Jamie finished wiping down the bar and snagged three beers before joining Ellen and Jo at one of the tables in the Roadhouse.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Ellen asked.

Jamie raised an eyebrow, “It’s 2 a.m. and I was on the road at 7. I’m exhausted.”

Ellen raised an eyebrow right back and didn’t say a word.

Jamie sighed, knowing exactly what Ellen’s look meant, and stood up. She lifted her shirt over her left side to reveal three long, bright red scars. Ellen pursed her lips tightly and Jo gasped. Jamie let her shirt fall and sat back down to take a long drought of her beer.

She took a deep breath, “It was a wendigo. Older and stronger than I expected and caught me off guard.”

“Why the hell were you hunting a wendigo on your own?” Ellen demanded.

Jamie shrugged, “There wasn’t anyone else in the area and its number of victims was increasing too rapidly to wait for help. I didn’t kill it, but I wounded it enough for it to hole up until Sam and Dean could go after it.”

Ellen nodded tight-lipped.

Jamie reached across the table to grasp her hand, “Mom, I’m fine.”

A few tears fell from her eyes, but Ellen relaxed and squeezed Jamie’s hand lightly. Jamie didn’t call her ‘mom’ often. It wasn’t out of resentment, and both knew that, but when she did, it was usually something important.

Ellen released her hand and took a drink of her own beer, “So, where were you holed up that took such good care of you? The boys and Bobby have all been pretty tight-lipped on that one.”

Jamie’s jaw tensed, “And I will be too. My staying with them for as long as I was put them in more danger than I’m comfortable with, and I’m not putting them in anymore by outing them.”

Ellen sighed, “Fine. Well, this old woman’s going to bed, and I suggest you two do the same.”

She kissed each of her daughters on the cheek before heading upstairs.

Jo tilted her head at her sister, “It was a guy wasn’t it?”

Jamie’s eyes went wide, “What… How… I…”

Jo shrugged, “You’ve just got your look in your eye.”

Jamie groaned and let her head fall to the table.

Jo laughed, “I knew it.”

Jamie raised her head just enough to shake it, “He’s better off without me.”

Jo’s smile disappeared and she reached over to squeeze her sister’s shoulder comfortingly. She didn’t press it any further.


	8. Intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know, there were easier ways to get me to tear your clothes off.” Jamie joked lamely.
> 
> Eliot chuckled, “But are they as fun?”

Jamie didn’t see Eliot for two and half months after she left Portland. She was home at Bobby’s, nursing a fractured ankle and bruised ribs, courtesy of one severely pissed off ghost, when he knocked on the front door. He had a black eye, a bruised jaw, a burn on his right arm, and a major limp she soon discovered was thanks to a nasty gash in his left thigh.

She had him on the couch and stripped down to boxers and a tank top in less than five minutes. She gathered warm water, clean cloths, bandages, salves, and a needle, washed her hands and pulled a chair up next to the couch. Neither had spoken.

“You know, there were easier ways to get me to tear your clothes off.” she joked lamely.

He chuckled, “But are they as fun?”

Jamie shrugged, carefully removing the haphazard bandage wrapped around his leg, “Could be.”

They were silent again as she doctored the gash in his leg and applied a heavy salve and smooth bandage to his burned arm. She found some clean athletic shorts and someone’s old t-shirt and put her supplies away as he changed before returning to the couch. She nudged his shoulder and he shifted enough for her to wedge into the corner of the couch and pull a blanket over her lap before laying his head on her leg. She pulled another blanket off the back of the couch and over him before beginning to gently card her fingers through his hair. His breathing deepened as he relaxed, but she could tell he was still awake.

“What happened?” she inquired quietly.

 “Job went south.”

She nudged his shoulder to let him know that wasn’t enough of an explanation.

He sighed deeply, “Ever hear of Posit Corp?”

“Big private security firm, right?”

He nodded against her thigh, “They’ve been transporting uranium all over the black market internationally. They were forcing some Iowa farmers to store it on their land. One ended up dead. His son came to us. They almost caught Parker when she went in to get their ledgers and route maps. I had to cause a distraction for her to finish up and get out. Blew my cover and got made all in one move. Got my ass kicked for the effort.”

“Did Parker get out?”

He nodded.

“Good. Get enough to take them out?”

She could barely see the side of his face, but she could see the edge of the grin that pulled at his lips, “Yeah. FBI and Homeland Security were swarming by the time I dragged myself into my truck.”

“Good… why’d you come here? Why not a hospital or home?” she couldn’t help asking.

His jaw tensed, “Parker and Hardison both got out safe and a lone ten year old could pull off the rest of the con. I hate letting them see me like this.”

Jamie nodded before remembering he couldn’t see her, so she squeezed his shoulder to convey she understood. To get into a hospital, Hardison would’ve had to hack and forge records. Going home would have meant both of them seeing him. They needed to think he was invincible, know that nothing would ever get through him and to them. Seeing him like this would have showed how close someone came to getting through him. So he headed to the one place he knew he could get patched up without them ever finding out.

“Where did you tell them you were going?” she asked.

“Didn’t. Just said I should lay low for a few days until Posit was disbanded and anyone who could recognize me was behind bars.”

Jamie nodded again, this time not really remembering he couldn’t see her as they both drifted off.

 

Bobby walked into the house with his shotgun at the ready. He didn’t recognize the truck in his driveway, and the blood on the seat didn’t bode well. He didn’t know what he expected. But finding Eliot Spencer asleep on his couch with his head in his daughters lap was _not_ it.

 

Bobby watched Eliot over the edge of his coffee mug as he waited to hear the shower running upstairs.

Once he was sure Jamie wouldn’t be coming back down for a while he spoke, “Spencer, what are your intentions with my daughter?”

Bobby smirked when Eliot almost choked on his coffee, “What?”

“You heard me, boy.”

Eliot stared at him for a moment until he realized the older man was serious. He stared off toward the stairs as he thought. Bobby waited patiently. He knew Eliot wasn’t stupid enough to try denying it.

Finally Eliot sighed, “Look, Bobby… I don’t know, man. I know that’s probably not what you want to hear.”

“Why?”

Eliot met Bobby’s eyes, “Why what?”

“Why don’t you know?”

“She’s a hunter. I’m a conman. Both our jobs are dangerous in their own right. I’m not saying I don’t feel something for her. I’d be an idiot not to. But us getting involved with each other… it would just put us and whoever we worked with in twice as much danger as we already put ourselves in. Neither of us is gonna stop doing what we do.” Eliot looked down into his coffee and added quietly, “Besides, I ain’t the marrying kind.”

Eliot looked up in surprise when Bobby scoffed, “And you think she is? She’s a hunter, Eliot.”

“That’s my point, man!”

Bobby shook his head, “Boy, if you think taking hold of something that could make you happy isn’t worth the extra danger… you’re an idiot.”

Eliot hung his head, “I just… I can’t, Bobby.”

 

Jamie smiled up at Eliot as he squeezed her shoulder on his way into the kitchen. Before she could turn her attention back to her book, she caught Bobby shaking his head and staring after Eliot.

“What?” she asked.

“Huh?” Bobby looked over at her.

“That look… what?”

Bobby shook his head. “I don’t understand that boy.”

Jamie raised an eyebrow, “What about him?”

“I’ve known him a long time. Granted, I ain’t seen him in years, but he hasn’t changed that much… you ever noticed how often he touches you?”

It was Jamie’s turn to respond with, “Huh?”

“He squeezes your arm or shoulder when he passes you. He rests his hands on your shoulders when he stands behind your. He pulls your feet up into his lap when he sits on the couch. He leans shoulder to shoulder with you when you lean against the counter or the wall. He lets you run your fingers through his hair when he sits on the ground in front of you or lays his head against your legs on the couch.”

Jamie’s brow scrunched in confusion, even as she tried not to blush, “So?”

Bobby scrubbed a hand across his beard frustratedly, “So… he’s got this thing about getting close to people. He explained it to me once, back when he was hunting. Said if you don’t let yourself get close, don’t show you care, it doesn’t hurt as bad to lose them. Only time he’d touch someone was when he was sparring or actually fighting or pulling someone out of the way. Occasionally a handshake.”

“Ookaay?”

“He actually touches you. Affectionately. And I know he cares about you. I don’t get why the hell the man doesn’t do something about it.”

Jamie shook her head, “Okay, first off, do you have any idea what a strange conversation this is to have with my dad?”

Bobby relaxed a bit and chuckled.

“And second, probably because I pretty much told him not to. I could deal with him being out. I could deal with the added danger. But he doesn’t want his team to know about our world, and honestly neither do I, but I couldn’t keep tiptoeing around them.”

Bobby sighed and nodded, “I got it.”

A thought struck Jamie, “Wait… how do you know he cares?”

Bobby looked away.

“Dad!” Jamie exclaimed. “You did _not_ give him the ‘What are your intentions with my daughter speech’ did you?”

Bobby studiously avoided her eyes.

“Oh my gosh! You did! Dad! That is _so_ cliché!”

Bobby finally looked at her and shrugged, “At least I didn’t do it while I was cleaning my shotgun.”

 

By the time the fall of Posit Corp hit the news a week later, Eliot was anxious to get back to his team. He shook hands with Bobby, shouldered his duffel, and walked side by side with Jamie out to his truck.

This time, he kissed her.


	9. Who is She?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "She's not my girlfriend."

“I miss Jamie.” Parker said sadly.

“Who?” Sophie asked, looking up at the thief, who was hanging upside down from a harness in front of the grifter.

“Eliot’s girlfriend.”

Sophie turned an honestly shocked expression toward Eliot, “Why didn’t I know about this?!”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Eliot growled.

Parker looked confused, “But you cook for her. And you let her use the kitchen. And you touch her, even though you don’t have to. And you’re less growly when she’s around. And she slept in your room the whole time she stayed with us. And you gave her presents. Doesn’t that make her your girlfriend?”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Eliot repeated, ignoring Sophie’s raised eyebrows.

“Babe, we talked about this.” Hardison reminded Parker.

“Well then who is she?” Sophie demanded.

“She’s a hitter.” Hardison offered.

“She’s not a hitter.” Eliot said.

“You know, man, you keep saying that since she left, but it’s been four months and you won’t tell us what she does do, so I’m gonna keep calling her a hitter until you do tell us.”

“Whatever, Hardison.”

“Besides that, I’m still holding out for a real name, or maintaining she’s an actress or a grifter you hired just to screw with me.”

Eliot just growled in response.

Sophie looked between them curiously, “Why do you say that, Hardison?”

“‘Cause the woman’s sole purpose in life seems to be to drive me crazy. She uses an alias from a bomb book series, introduced two scary-ass dudes as her ‘brothers,’” he punctuated with air quotes, “by the names of that alias’ brothers in the books, and they drive the same damn cars as in the books. And besides that, we haven’t heard a damn thing from her since she left. Now that’s suspicious.”

“I saw her two months ago.” Eliot said without thinking.

He jumped as Parker suddenly landed in his lap, “And you didn’t take us? That’s not fair!”

Eliot realized he’d said it out loud and cursed, “Shit. No I didn’t take you. I’m allowed to have my own life Parker.”

Parker pouted as she jumped out of his life and perched on the coffee table.

Hardison just continued on, “But see, the thing that really gets me, is she stayed with us, here in the apartment, for almost two months and didn’t slip at all even once. And everything I’ve found about her on the computer reads like fiction or is contradictory as hell. No one is that damn good.”

“Are you saying there was never any sign she was lying?” Sophie queried.

“Not a one.” Hardison confirmed. “Not about her name, at least.”

“That’s cause it’s not an alias.” Eliot grumbled.

“When’s she coming back?” Parker pressed.

Eliot groaned, “She’s probably not.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not safe for any of us, Parker. What she does is even more dangerous than what we do. She doesn’t need our enemies added to hers and we sure as hell don’t need hers added to ours.”

Paker shrugged, “We could handle it.”

Eliot was getting more frustrated, but forced his voice to be gentler, “I don’t doubt it, darlin’. Problem is Jamie and me both agree that we don’t want you to.”

 

Sophie found Eliot in the gym, pounding on a heavy bag. She noticed new scars over old ones and stamped down the worry that rose up. He was good at his job, and occasionally, his job included getting hurt. She wondered, not for the first time, about some of the more oddly shaped scars. She also wondered about the strange tattoo on his chest – it looked like something on the cover of one of Hardison’s fantasy books. As he spun out of an elegant kick, he noticed her at the edge of the mat. She kicked her shoes off and padded toward him. He faced her, breathing hard, and waited for her to start.

“You’re hiding something from them.” she told him.

He didn’t deny it.

“Is it something you can tell me?”

He gave her a small smile but shook his head.

“It doesn’t just have to do with this girl. It has to do with you.”

Eliot chuckled, “You always were the best of us at reading people.”

“Will it hurt them?”

Eliot sighed, “Soph, I told you I’d die for them, and I meant it. I know there’s no avoiding them finding out one of these days. But when they do… that whole dying bit is likely to happen much sooner rather than later. Some parts of my past are best left in the dark.”

Sophie nodded, “And this girl, she’s part of that?”

Eliot hung his head a bit with a sad smile, “It’s complicated.”


	10. Distinctive Weapon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What’s the deal with you Winchester’s and classic Chevy’s?”

Six months had passed since she had left, and Parker had finally stopped asking Eliot how Jamie was, and stopped asking Hardison to find her, when she quite literally ran into her in the middle of a con. The thief in Parker was annoyed that she’d been caught off guard. The mastermind in her was irritated someone else was working the same mark. But the person in her was happy to see her friend. The person won. She unhooked her harness and dropped lightly to her feet, throwing her arms around Jamie. Jamie hugged her back with one arm as she tucked her gun back into the waistband of her jeans.

“What are you doing here?” Parker hissed.

“Who are you talking to?” she heard Eliot’s voice in her ear. She ignored him.

Jamie hesitated, “Artifact, supposed to be stored on the eighth floor.”

Parker brightened, as she pulled her rig out of the air vent, “Good security on the eighth floor, but we didn’t have a reason to go up there. Got an exit strategy?”

“Who are you talking to?” Alec asked this time. Parker continued to ignore them. Jamie pulled her gun back out of her waistband and held it up, shrugging.

Parker laughed, “I have to hook into a computer down the hall. Wait three minutes and I’ll help you get your artifact.”

Jamie grinned, “Thanks.”

“Parker! Who the hell are you talking to?!” Eliot’s growliest voice sounded in her ear.

She rolled her eyes and fished an extra com out of her pocket and handed it over to Jamie as she answered, “Jamie’s here. And now she’s on coms.”

 

“Hey stranger!” Alec greeted cheerily.

Jamie grinned, “Hey Hardison.”

“How’d you come in?”

“East service entrance.”

Hardison clucked, “Sloppy, girl. You know how many cameras caught you?”

“Did any of them catch my face?” Jamie challenged as she followed Parker

“No. But that’s not the point.” Alec muttered. “And now it’s like you were never there.”

Jamie laughed, “Eliot, I don’t know why you complain about him, I’ll take two.”

Eliot grunted, finally proving he was, in fact, there, “Don’t boost his ego.”

“Hey! I got mad skills.” Hardison protested.

“Do I need to get them out of here?” Eliot asked.

Jamie stood in the doorway of the office Parker slipped into, continuously scanning the hall, “No. They’re safe. I really am just picking up an artifact.”

“Alright.”

Ten minutes later, Jamie had her artifact safely tucked into her small backpack, Alec was panicking, and Eliot was cursing.

“You’ve got security headed your way fast.” Hardison told them, “I missed a firewall and tripped an alarm in the computer system.”

“In other words, not my fault, so Eliot doesn’t have to kill me.” Jamie answered as she took the stairs up, two at a time, behind Parker.

“Right. Totally my fault. That does not, however, mean that you should kill me, brother.” Alec said.

“Damn it, Hardison! Just give them an out!” Eliot ground out.

“I’ve already got one. Meet us at the southeast corner of the building.” Parker said, almost sounding chipper.

“Parker, we’re going up. How the hell are we getting out of here?” Jamie questioned.

“She’s probably gonna throw you off the building.” Hardison muttered.

“No, really.” Jamie insisted.

“Really. I’m gonna throw you off the building.” Parker confirmed.

Jamie stopped dead in her tracks.

Parker reached back and grabbed her arm, “Keep moving!”

Before she entirely grasped what was going on, Parker was strapping her into a harness, tying a line off one of the various structures on the roof, and pushing her off the roof with the command to “Tuck your chin,” before jumping off right behind her. Eliot was waiting for them on the ground when she stopped flying about two feet above it. He unhooked her from the harness and ushered her into their van. Parker hopped in right behind them, and they were off.

The shock didn’t wear off until they were holed up in the Leverage crew’s hotel suite. Finally, she turned to Eliot, who was staring at her in bemusement.

“What the hell?!” she burst out.

Eliot shook his head, laughed, and slid her a beer that she downed half of in one long swig.

Alec looked at her with sympathetic pity and tilted his orange soda toward her in a toast, “Welcome to life with Parker.”

Jamie shook her head and downed the rest of the beer before standing and shouldering her backpack, “I’ve gotta go get my car.”

Parker shot up from the couch, looking panicked, “Will you come back?”

Jamie shrugged, “If you want me to.”

Parker nodded, “Please.”

“Alright.”

 

Eliot wanted Jamie to stay as bad as Parker, but even if he didn’t the smile on Parker’s face would’ve changed his mind.

He looked at Jamie, “Where’s your car?”

“About three blocks south of the building we just robbed.” Jamie answered.

“I’ll go with you.”

Jamie nodded, “Sure.”

They caught a cab outside the hotel and had it drop them off a block from the public lot Jamie had parked her Chevelle in.

“So,” Eliot began as they walked, “what’s the deal with the artifact?”

“Cursed. Doubt these guys even knew what they were getting.” Jamie answered.

“You let Parker touch a cursed object?!” Eliot exploded.

“Hell no!” Jamie snapped back, “As long as it stays in its box, it’s harmless.”

Eliot immediately relaxed, “Sorry. I… I know better.”

“Damn straight.”

He let out a low whistle as they approached her car. He’d only caught glimpses of it as they passed through the garage when she stayed with them, and when she drove away. The Chevelle was all sleek lines in gunmetal grey with black racing stripes and lightly tinted windows and black leather seats. It looked immaculate. Knowing her, and her brother, the engine was probably in even better shape.

“‘69?” he asked appreciatively.

Jamie hummed affirmatively as she fished her keys out of her pocket on popped open the trunk.

“What’s the deal with you Winchester’s and classic Chevy’s?” Eliot asked.

“Can’t beat the power.” Jamie winked over at him, “Plus, you can fit a body in the trunk.”

Following her around to the trunk, a wave of nostalgia hit Eliot. A devil’s trap was etched _and_ painted into the top, and a false bottom lifted to reveal an impressive assortment of weapons, including the Kurd blade he’d given her before she left after her time with them in Portland.

_Jamie looked incredulously into the polished wooden box Eliot had just handed her._

_“Is this what I think it is?” she finally asked._

_Eliot raised an eyebrow curiously, “The fact that you even have an idea of what it is shows you’re a force to be reckoned with.”_

_“It’s a very distinctive weapon.” Jamie winked at him._

_He growled good-naturedly._

_Jamie took a deep breath, “It’s a Kurd blade. A demon-killing knife. Sam and Dean have one, a little smaller than this one.”_

_Eliot looked impressed, “Hard to come by.”_

_“Yeah, got it off a demon, believe it or not.”_

_“Getting that one was a bit more complicated.” He nodded toward the box._

_“You’ll have to tell me that story someday.”_

_“Someday.”_

_She touched the handle almost reverently before replacing the lid and holding the box back out toward him._

_He shook his head and left his arms crossed over his chest, “I want you to take it.”_

_Jamie balked, “No way. I can’t take this, Eliot.”_

_He sat next to her on the bed and pushed the box back toward her, “Then let me rephrase, I_ need _you to take it. I’m not hunting anymore. I may again someday, but right now, I’m not. And you are. And I’d feel a hell of a lot better knowing you had it. Besides, a blade like this deserves to be used instead of squirrelled away in some safe.”_

_Jamie blinked the tears away, and couldn’t do anything but nod and offer a choked, “Thank you.”_

Jamie tucked the backpack with the artifact into a free nook under the false bottom. Bobby was still working on how to destroy it, but they knew they couldn’t just leave it sitting there.

She looked up and caught Eliot’s almost wistful face scanning her weapons. She gestured to the blade he’d gifted her with, and smirked a bit as she told him quietly, “My brothers still don’t know I have that.”

He looked up at her and smirked back, “Wouldn’t wanna make them jealous.”

She laughed before slamming the trunk closed and offering the keys to Eliot, “Wanna drive?”


	11. To the Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He’s unconscious.”
> 
> “How unconscious?”
> 
> “Very. His head is bleeding.”

Jamie thrummed her fingers on the steering wheel as she waited for Eliot to pick up his phone. To her surprise, a woman’s voice answered, whispering, “Hello?”

“Parker?” Jamie asked.

“Yeah. Who’s this?”

“It’s Jamie.”

“Oh! Hi!” her voice faded out a little as she added, “It’s Jamie.”

Jamie figured she must be on coms, “Parker, why are you whispering? Are you on a job?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, just… wait, why are you answering Eliot’s phone?”

“He’s unconscious.”

“How unconscious?”

“Very. His head is bleeding.”

“Shit!” Jamie slammed her palm against the steering wheel. “Where are you?”

“We’re hiding in an air duct. There’s bad guys all over the conference room and I can’t get us out.”

“No, Parker. What city?”

“Salem, Oregon.”

Jamie glanced down at her map, “I’ll be there in 20 minutes. Text me the exact address and hang tight.”

Jamie hung up and stomped the gas as she leaned over to rummage through her glove box for the com Hardison had given her last month. She should be in range. She slipped it into her ear as she sped around an old Buick.

“Hardison, can you hear me?” she asked.

“Yeah, girl, I got you. Parker already texted you the address.”

“Forget the address, I’m driving too fast to pick up my phone. Give me directions off I-5.”

Fifteen minutes later, she pulled her Chevelle into a space a block down from the building where Parker and Eliot were trapped.

“Hardison, you got the cameras?” she double-checked as she approached the entrance.

“You know it.” the hacker confirmed.

“Parker, you still good?”

“Eliot’s not moving.” Parker whispered.

Jamie forced her panic down, “Hardison, where am I going?”

“Follow the hall you’re in past the first T-off and take a left at the first 4-way. Conference room will be on your right.”

“How many guys am I dealing with?”

“Two in the hall, five in the conference room.”

Jamie took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders before turning the corner. Both of the guards in the hall immediately started toward her. She smirked as she realized that moved them out sight from the conference room windows.

“Howdy, gentlemen. I believe you have something of mine.” she greeted them.

The bigger of the two smirked and said, “Not unless you’re looking for a couple sloppy thieves.”

The second made an obscene gesture and said, “Maybe I do.”

“Awh, now that’s just nasty.” she heard Hardison commentate in her ear.

Jamie looked at the first goon, “Try world-class. They’d take offense at being called sloppy.”

“He called us sloppy?!” Jamie heard Parker’s furious hiss.

Jamie turned to the second, “And as for you… ew.”

She cracked her knuckles and held her hands out, beckoning with the tips of her fingers.

“You sure about this, Jai? These guys are massive.” Alec said.

Jamie laughed, “Have you seen my brothers?” she asked incredulously. “These guys are tiny.”

The first guy looked at her like she was crazy for talking to herself as second made the mistake of walking directly up to her. He reached for her arm and she grabbed his wrist, twisting it hard enough to break as she squatted and used her shoulder for leverage to flip him over her back. He slammed into the closest wall before falling unconscious from landing on his own head.

The first guy was more cautious after that display. He surprised her when he charged from halfway down the hall and bent, tackling her around the middle. She landed hard; the wind knocked out of her, but she recovered quickly and used the advantage of her smaller size to get out from under the guard. She rolled over and then back, pushing herself partially up to her feet and landing hard on her knees right on the guard’s chest as rolled onto his back. As he gasped for air Jamie pushed to her feet and kicked him hard, just behind the ear. On more swift kick to the temple, and he was out cold.

“Damn, girl.” Hardison chuckled.

She peaked into the conference room and drew her gun. She couldn’t take all five hand-to-hand, but she could sure as hell handle them with a gun.

“Uh, remember we don’t like killing folks.” Hardison reminded her.

“I’m not killing anyone, Hardison, just offering incentive to see things my way.” she reassured him. “Parker, once I’m in position, I’m gonna need your help. Do you have any zip ties?”

“I have duct tape.” Parker answered.

“Is Eliot wearing cargo pants?”

“Uhh… yeah.”

“Check the middle pocket on the left side.”

“Oh! Zip ties. Cool”

Jamie grinned and took a deep breath before spinning into sight and kicking the door open. The guards all froze and stared at her in shock.

“Keep your mouths shut and your hands where I can see them.”

Hands went up. Jamie was always amazed at how quickly trained professionals responded when they recognized a steady gun hand.

“Anyone so much as flinches wrong and I will shoot. Nod if you understand.”

Five heads nodded even as their eyes all turned calculating.

“Parker, now.” Jamie said quietly.

A vent cover came flying into the room and Parker dropped lightly into the room, duct tape in one hand and zip ties in the other. A few of the guards jumped a little, but no one made any other sudden movements, and all hands remained in the air.

Jamie nodded to Parker, “Put their weapons on the table, make sure you check hips, ankles, and shoulder holsters.”

Parker worked quickly, assembling a neat pile of blades and guns. By the time they were all disarmed, most were glaring furiously, but obediently keeping their mouths shut.

“Now what?” Parker asked.

Jamie nodded to the guard closest to her, “You, on your knees. Zip tie his hands behind him. Then duct tape his mouth.”

They repeated the process with the other four guards.

“Alright, everyone on their bellies, nose in the carpet.” Jamie demanded.

Once the guards were all face down, she lowered the gun, but kept it in hand. She jerked her chin toward the vent in a silent question, and Parker nodded and dragged a chair over and climbed back in to her waist, coming back seconds later, dragging Eliot by the shoulders. Jamie cast one more glance at the guards before sticking her gun in her waist band long enough to help Parker get Eliot to the floor.

She pulled her gun out with her right hand and wrapped her left arm around Eliot’s waist as Parker propped up his other side. Hardison directed them out a back service entrance and had the van waiting. Jamie directed Hardison to her car and handed Parker her keys.

Hardison’s eyes bugged out, “You do not want to let Parker drive your car.”

“I do not want to leave my car here and I cannot leave Eliot with an untreated head wound.” Jamie snapped up at him. “Parker, do _not_ crash my car.”

An hour later, Eliot was conscious enough to mostly get himself up the stairs, but was out again before they made it past the living room, so Jamie let him collapse onto the couch before she went for his medical kit. She washed her hands in the bathroom before lugging the black tote back into the living room. She didn’t notice until she was done stitching the gash just under his hairline that two people had already been sitting in the living room when stumbled in.

Those two people were currently in an impressive yelling match with Hardison and Parker.

 

Parker noticed first that Jamie was done working on Eliot. She stopped mid-scream and turned worried eyes to Jamie, “Is he gonna be okay?”

Everyone else silenced.

Jamie’s shoulders tensed, “I won’t know until he wakes up.”

Nate turned to Hardison with his scary calm voice, “You said this was an easy job. You said you didn’t need us.”

“It should’ve been!” Hardison’s voice rose again.

“Besides, if you’d been there, Jamie would’ve had to get twice as many people out.” Parker reasoned.

Nate looked like he was going to yell again. Parker glanced desperately at Jamie.

Jamie cut Nate off before he could start, “Any more yelling, and I’m going to start shooting people.”

Parker smiled at her gratefully.

Hardison took a step back, “She’ll do it too.”

 

Sophie followed Hardison’s example and stepped back from the dark-haired woman in front of them before she registered Parker’s earlier comment, “Wait… _you’re_ Jamie? _The_ Jamie?”

Jamie raised an eyebrow as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t know about _The_ Jamie, but I am Jamie.”

“Oh! How exciting!” Sophie stepped back toward her and extended a hand, “I’m Sophie. This is my husband Nate.”

Jamie relaxed upon hearing their names, so Sophie reasoned that Eliot, or Parker and Hardison, had told her at least something about them. She reached out to shake both of their hands without hesitation.

“Pleasure to finally meet you.” Nate told her.

“Same to you.” Jamie responded. “Not to be rude, but I really need to sit down.”

“Of course. Please.” Nate gestured to the couch as if he still owned the place.

Sophie saw Hardison roll his eyes toward Nate. She had to fight the urge to do the same thing herself.

She noted with interest that Jamie chose to wedge herself into the corner of the couch Eliot had collapsed on, positioning his head in her lap, instead of taking one of the many open seats. Nate followed Parker and Hardison into the office, grilling them about where the con had gone wrong, but Sophie stayed behind and sunk into the chair opposite Jamie.

 

Jamie eyed the grifter across from her. She’d heard a lot about the woman, and she was curious. Apparently the same could be said for Sophie. She looked like she was about to explode with unasked questions.

Jamie decided to beat her to the punch, “So, “ _the_ Jamie”?”

Sophie laughed, “Oh they all just go on and on about you!”

Jamie arched an eyebrow, “All?”

Sophie shrugged shamelessly, “Okay, not so much Eliot, but he doesn’t stop the other two. And he actually smiles when they talk about you. With Eliot, that’s basically the same thing.”

Jamie laughed and looked away, trying to swallow back the tears that had suddenly sprung up.

Sophie noticed anyway and moved quickly to kneel in front of her, “Oh, dear! Don’t cry! Please! What did I say wrong?”

Jamie shook her head and swiped angrily at her eyes, “Nothing. You didn’t say anything wrong. I just…” Jamie trailed off, gathering her thoughts as Sophie moved back to her chair. “I know how Eliot feels about me. But he and I both know we just can’t work. So hearing about it from someone else is bittersweet.”

“Why can’t you work?” Sophie asked softly.

Jamie paused before answering, “It’s complicated.”

Sophie smiled sadly, “That’s the exact same thing he told me.”


	12. No Filter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliot growled, “I’m just gonna start assuming everything going through my head is coming out of my mouth.”
> 
> “It pretty much is.” Jamie told him cheerfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: AU- Cas has his mojo back. I don’t know how, but in my happy place it has something to do with him killing Metatron.

Eliot groggily fought his way back to consciousness fully aware of, and fully pissed off about, the concussion he was going to be dealing with. He smelled a perfume that could only mean Sophie was there from somewhere in the room.

Closer, much closer, to him, he smelled gun and motor oils and leather with subtle hints of cinnamon and vanilla and felt fingers carding gently through his hair. He pushed those sensations away, because they could only mean Jamie was there, and he was in no mood to deal with delusions on top of a concussion.

He felt more than heard her chuckle as Jamie’s voice told him, “I’m not a delusion.”

Eliot forced his eyes open and immediately met her green eyes. They were so bright he wanted to blink.

Jamie grinned, “By all means, blink away.”

Eliot groaned, “What the hell?”

Jamie’s grin grew, “I think your brain to mouth filter broke when you hit your head.”

Eliot groaned again and rolled to bury his face against her leg. He took a few deep breaths, and gratefully realized he didn’t feel nauseous.

“Good because I would not appreciate you throwing up on my jeans.” Jamie told him.

“Damn it, Jamie! I am not meaning to say this shit out loud!” He rolled back to glare up at her.

“I know. That’s why it’s so funny.”

Eliot closed his eyes, trying to concentrate, and remember, “Nate was yelling when we got back.”

Parker appeared and perched on the arm of the couch, facing him, “He stopped when Jamie threatened to start shooting people.”

Eliot couldn’t help but grin, “Maybe I need to rethink my opinion of guns….” Then he frowned, “Salem. The job went south. I was fighting 3 of the guards. They were too good.”

Parker nodded, “You knocked two of them out. The third got a lucky shot and slammed your head into a broken glass table. I hauled you up into the air vent with me when he turned his back to call for backup.”

Eliot’s frown deepened. He was supposed to protect them. They weren’t supposed to save him.

Parker shrugged, “We all take care of each other.”

Eliot growled, “I’m just gonna start assuming everything going through my head is coming out of my mouth.”

“It pretty much is.” Jamie told him cheerfully.

He glared up at her before looking back to Parker, “How’d we get out?”

Hardison walked over and perched himself on the coffee table, “Jamie showed up and kicked ass.”

Eliot looked up at Jamie curiously, “How?”

“I was less than 30 miles out of Salem and heading your direction anyway. Had a job in Portland and was calling to ask if it was cool to crash with you guys.” she explained.

“You know you don’t even have to ask.” Eliot told her in a pained tone.

Jamie shrugged a little tensely, “It’s polite.”

“Still have that job?”

“I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

 

Later that night Jamie curled into Eliot’s side as he wrapped an arm around her.

“So what are you hunting?” Eliot asked quietly.

“Shifter. Committed a whole string of robberies in the last month or so. Put someone in the hospital two weeks ago and killed a couple three days ago.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

She felt him take a deep breath, “Need help?”

Jamie shot up into a sitting position and looked down at him sharply, “No way in hell. Even if you didn’t have a concussion. You’re out and I will _not_ be the reason you get back in.”

Eliot raised his hands in surrender, “Alright. Easy, darlin’.”

Jamie settled back against his chest and began to relax as he absentmindedly (well, he was probably aware of it, he always knew what his body was doing) rubbed circles over her shoulder.

“Do you ever think this is weird?” Jamie nearly whispered.

“What?” Eliot asked.

“This. Us.” Jamie gestured absently with one hand.

“How?”

“You know. We both have feelings for each other and we both know it, but we’re not in a relationship because it would put too much at risk. Yet every time we’re in the same place, we share a bed.”

“We’re just sleeping.”

“That’s just it, though. If we were screwing, that would almost be normal. This, though, it’s… intimate.”

Eliot took a deep breath and chuckled, “Yeah, well, maybe we are a little weird.”

 

Jamie cursed as she slipped on yet another pile of slime. She would never understand why shifters insisted on living in sewers when they could pass as human. Shining her flashlight ahead of her, she prayed the tunnel would open up soon. The shifter had been behind her for almost 10 minutes and it made her nervous as hell. Sure, she’d let the thing get behind her in the first place, but still…

Five minutes later, the tunnel opened into a cavern-like room that was clearly where the shifter had been living. Jamie shuddered as she eyed the piles of slime dotting the floor. There was a mess of pillows and blankets that somewhat resembled a nest tucked into one corner It was surrounded by piles of stolen jewelry.

She lowered her gun, but kept her finger on the trigger, and affected a more relaxed posture. Then she began poking about the room, purposefully muttering about the mess and degrading shifters, in an effort to get the shifter to show itself. Roughly two minutes later, directly following one of the more vulgar insults she’d picked up from Dean, the shifter hurled itself out with a snarl. Unfortunately, it was much closer than she expected. She stumbled backward as she lifted her gun. She managed to bury two silver rounds into its chest. Unfortunately, she also managed to bury herself in the nearest pile of slime.

 

Eliot had nearly doubled over laughing, before stopping to clutch his head in pain, when Jamie had stalked into the apartment covered in shifter slime. Her glare had done nothing but encourage him to laugh harder. Hardison took one look at her and left the room. Parker wrinkled her nose at the smell. Jamie had tossed a bag her way and told her if she pawned everything while Jamie showered she’d get a 20% cut. Parker had scampered off with Eliot yelling after her to avoid any shops with cameras.

 

Jamie groaned as her phone rang insistently. She rolled over grasped for it as she felt Eliot shift as he flicked a light on.

She squinted at her phone before answering, “It’s 3 in the morning. Whoever this is, you better have a damn good reason for calling.”

Chuck’s tense voice caused Jamie to wake up fully and sit up, “It’s Dean… he… the Mark. It’s causing problems.”

Jamie stood up and started pulling a pair of jeans on, “Where are they?”

“The bunker. Call Cas. You’ll need him.”

Chuck paused and she took the time to turn on speaker phone and toss the phone on the bed as she dug through her bag for a clean shirt and pulled off the t-shirt she’d borrowed from Eliot to sleep in.

“Dean is going to be… this is going to be difficult, on all of you.” Chuck finally said.

“What else is new? He’s family. We’ll deal with it.”

“I know.”

“Do Sam and Dean know it’s about to go bad?”

“No.” Chuck disconnected as she pulled her boots on.

“What’s going on?” Eliot asked, concerned.

“Family emergency.” Jamie answered, yanking a flannel over her tank top.

She glanced around the room and hastily shoved the remainder of her clothes into her duffle. She yanked her hair back into a pony tail and shoved her phone in her jeans pocket.

Confident she had at least almost everything, she took a deep breath and cast her eyes upwards, “Castiel, if you’re not too busy, could you please get your feathery ass to Portland?”

 

Eliot was about to ask what she was doing, but half a second and a great gust of wind later, a black-haired, blue-eyed man in a trench coat was standing in the middle of his bedroom.

“What the hell?” Eliot exclaimed jumping out of bed.

“No, I was attending to business in heaven.” The man said seriously.

Jamie rolled her eyes, “That was fast. I usually have to call you at least three times before you show when you’re in heaven.”

“I could sense your desperation.”

Jamie nodded, “We’ve gotta go, Cas.”

“Where are we going?”

“The bunker.”

Cas’ forehead scrunched in confusion, “What’s happening?”

“Chuck just called. The Mark... Dean needs us.”

Cas’ blue eyes widened.

“You can get me there fastest.”

“Of course.” Cas reached a hand toward her, but she lifted her own hand, signaling him to wait. His hand dropped.

Jamie turned to Eliot.

“What the hell?” he asked again.

“Eliot, this is Castiel. He’s an angel.”

“An angel?” Eliot asked incredulously. “There’s no such thing.”

Jamie smiled at him, “Like you said, you’ve been too far out of the game for too long.”

Eliot nodded lamely.

“Do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

Jamie fished her keys out of her jacket pocket and held them out to Eliot, “Take care of my car. I may eventually need you to bring it Kansas.”

Eliot nodded, “You got it.”

Jamie nodded and turned back toward the angel. Before he could stop himself, Eliot grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him, crushing her to him tightly. She wrapped her free arm around him and gently rested her forehead against his for a moment. She smiled at him one last time with tears in her eyes before turning, grasping the angel’s hand, and vanishing.

 

Jamie reached out and grasped the chair in front of her, fighting the nausea that threatened to take over. Sam and Dean had both jumped, toppling their chairs, when Cas and Jamie had poofed in, but Jamie didn’t notice them right away.

Cas ignored them and looked at Jamie in worry, “Jamie. Are you well?”

Jamie shakily raised a hand to wave him off, “Fine. Just don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

“At least you don’t get constipated.” Dean muttered under his breath.

Jamie was recovered enough to laugh at that. Sam almost chuckled with her. Dean glared at them both. Cas looked confused, as always.

Just a moment later, Sam’s face changed to one of concern. Dean caught it and seemed to follow Sam’s train of thought.

His green eyes turned to meet his sister’s identical ones, “What was so important you had to take the angel express, Jai?”

Jamie immediately sobered, “Chuck called.”

Sam’s eyes widened in a manner that would have been comical any other time.

Dean angled an eyebrow curiously, “About what?”

But even as Jamie opened her mouth to answer, Dean suddenly grasped his forearm, over the Mark, with a pained gasp before collapsing to the floor in convulsions.

“That.” Jamie breathed even as she dropped to her knees and tried to make sure her brother didn’t hurt himself.


	13. Rattlesnake Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The grin on his face was nothing short of venomous, and his laugh was almost maniacal, “Do I look like something you can put in fucking a cage?” he snarled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Title, and a few lines, taken from Christian Kane’s song by the same name.

“Parker! Where the hell are you?!” Eliot’s voice crackled over the com.

Hardison looked around as he pulled out his phone. “We’re in the warehouse closest to the river on the Northeast corner.”

“Damn it, Hardison! How close behind are they?”

Parker glanced out the window, clutching the painting tight to her chest, “They’re one building down. They’ll be busting in any minute.”

“Get further into the warehouse. Stay away from the windows. I’m on my way.” Eliot growled out.

 

Eliot was in sight of the warehouse when he heard Parker’s voice again, far quieter than it needed to be, “Uh, Eliot?”

“Yeah, darlin’?” he asked as he ran.

“There’s people here.”

“This place is supposed to be abandoned.” Hardison added.

“Just stay outta their sight.”

“But some of them are in cages.” Parker told him.

Eliot almost stopped short, but instinct kicked in, and he sped up instead. “Are all of them in cages?”

“No. Some are sleeping on the cots or mattresses on the floor.”

“Stay the hell away from all of them and get the hell out of that warehouse. Now.”

“Too late.” Hardison squeaked out at a normal volume.

“Shit! Hold tight. And do not piss them off. How many are there?”

“Half a dozen of you and you can’t scrape together enough to get a decent apartment?” Eliot heard Hardison question.

“Got it. Remember, do _not_ piss them off.” Eliot repeated.

Unfortunately for the Columbians chasing his partners, they chose the wrong time to cross his path. All four were in unconscious heaps in under a minute. He silently breathed a prayer of thanks for South American’s fondness for machetes as he swiped two sheaths and strapped them outside of his jeans.

“What’s going on in there?” Eliot asked, breathing hard.

“Woah now! Ain’t no need to be shovin’ us! We can walk just fine. And by the way, shovin’ folks into cages just ain’t humanitarian, man.” Hardison complained.

“Parker, give me directions.”

“Norheast catwalk. First hallway to your right.” Parker whispered.

Eliot cursed at the fear in her voice and pushed himself to run faster, now following the voices ahead of him. Seeing the cage door closed on Parker and Hardison and the men leering around them, the last of Eliot’s reservations about jumping back in headfirst vanished. Without a second thought, he hurled himself over the edge of the catwalk and landed in a crouch on the lower level.

Two of the men were on him faster than humanly possible. As they reached for him, he pushed up, catching both in their jaws and sending them sprawling back a few feet. He shoved his hair out of his face as two more came close. In one smooth motion he ducked their grasp and spun further out of reach.

The grin on his face was nothing short of venomous, and his laugh was almost maniacal, “Do I look like something you can put in fucking a cage?” he snarled.

The lone woman in the crowd stepped forward, opening checking him out, “It could certainly be fun.”

Eliot’s grin grew, “Yeah? Well why don’t you come on over here and give me a kiss so we can find out?” he used two fingers to tap his cheek.

“I thought you said not to piss them off!” Hardion’s panicked voice came from the cage.

“I did.” Eliot confirmed.

“Then what the hell are you doing?”

“He’s our hitter. It’s his job.” Parker said with a steady voice.

“Hitter?” one of the men questioned.

“Hired muscle for criminals.” another answered.

The woman and one of the men who had pulled himself up off the ground came closer, clearly not thinking Eliot was nothing more than hired muscle. His grin came out full force. As soon as the two were in arms reach, he flicked his jacket aside and grasped the handle of one of the machetes, drawing it and beheading the approaching guy, who was closest, in one motion. He was vaguely aware of Parker’s stunned silence and Hardison’s shocked gasp, but his attention was on the remaining five.

The woman stumbled back, “Shit! He’s a hunter!”

“He can’t take all five of us.” One of the other’s yelled.

They started circling him, and his grin turned into an almost feral smile as they let their fangs free.

_Damn I missed this_ , he thought, trying to remember why exactly he’d quit in the first place. Vaguely, he registered Parker and Hardison’s frightened faces and realized he’d have to end this quickly. He rolled his shoulders casually and lifted the machete in his hand, using his free hand to beckon teasingly at the vampires. Two charged at once, and Eliot waited for them to line up just right before swinging full force and sending both their heads flying almost simultaneously.

The one man that remained froze momentarily before turning on his heel and running. Eliot tackled him around the waist, dropping the machete in the process. He leveraged himself over the vampire, holding him down with his knees and drawing the second machete before dropping it in a smooth downward arc.

Eliot pushed to his feet only to be knocked down by the woman. Before she could pin him he twisted onto his back and planted a foot in her chest, sending her flying back into one of the cages. He charged quickly, pinning her back against it, only to realize he’d dropped the second machete. Noticing his distraction, the vampire shoved him back. He heard shattering glass and felt the shape of an axe against his back. He reached behind him with his right hand even as the she pinned him to the wall by his neck.

There was a wild fury in her eyes, “You took out my whole family.” She glanced behind her at Parker and Hardison, still in the cage, staring on wide-eyed. “And now you’ll watch me do the same to yours.”

She slammed his head into the cement pillar, not nearly as hard as she should have, before releasing his neck and turning her back to him. He grasped her wrist with his left hand and spun her around and slammed her into the pillar, bringing the axe out with his right. She gasped as he air rushed out of her.

She looked at him desperately as he raised the axe, “Before you kill me…”

Eliot raised an eyebrow in question.

“I’ve fought hunters before… but never as good as you. Who the hell are you?”

“Eliot Spencer.”

The vampire’s eyes were the size of saucers as her head hit the floor.

Eliot dropped the axe and took a deep breath before turning to face the cages. Parker and Hardison both stared at him wide-eyed. He found the keys on the floor and unlocked the cage silently before moving to the others. Unfortunately, no one was left alive. Fortunately, none showed signs of being changed.

Finally, Parker spoke quietly behind him, “What were they?”

Eliot sighed, turning to face his partners, “Vampires.”

Parker nodded in acceptance.

Hardison blanched, “There ain’t no such thing, man!”

Eliot ran his hands through his hair in desperation, “Damn it, Hrdison! Did you not just see that?”

“But –”

“But nothing, Hardison.” Parker cut in. “Have you ever seen Eliot kill a human like that?”

“Hell no!” Hardison exclaimed, “He wouldn’t!”

“Exactly.”

Hardison looked at the gore around them and finally nodded slowly, a silent shock setting back in.

“Now what do we do?” Parker asked.

Eliot took a deep breath, then noticed the painting still clutched to Parker’s chest. A much more human grin appeared on his face, “Drag those Columbian assholes in here and make for damn sure they won’t be causing our clients anymore trouble. Won’t be hard to make it look like they did this. And the police and coroners won’t know any of them weren’t human.”

 

Hardison cast one final glance back at the warehouse as they drove away, the initial shock beginning to pass, “Oh man!”

Eliot glanced across to the passenger seat, “What?”

“So, those were vampires?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re a hunter.”

“Used to be…”

Hardison’s brain felt like it was going to explode out of his skull, “The Supernatural books…”

Eliot snorted, “Chuck’s a prophet.”

“Chuck?”

“Uh, Carver Edmund.”

“Edlund.” Alec knew his voice was climbing to unmanly octaves, but he was freaking out, damn it!

“Whatever.”

“Prophet?”

Eliot nodded, “Didn’t know it ‘til after he wrote the books. The Winchester’s promised him a few new holes to try and breathe from if he kept publishing.”

“Winchest – holy shit! Jamie!?”

“Yep.”

“Damn. So she’s really…” Hardison trailed off, not even sure what he was trying to ask.

Eliot sighed, “Yeah. The Winchester’s are some of the best hunters this world has ever seen. Scary even by hunters standards.”

“Wait!” Parker suddenly sat up in between them, “When she said you were an urban legend… she said hunter, not hitter, didn’t she?”

Eliot chuckled, “Yeah.”

“I can see why.” Hardison said, cringing as he remembered the utterly ruthless way Eliot had fought, so unlike the way he took out people on cons, “I ain’t ever seen you fight a human like that.”

“That’s because humans don’t deserve to be killed like that.” Eliot answered, voice low.

It was quiet until they got back to Portland. No one spoke again until they’d all showered and gathered around the table to eat.

“You know,” Alec ventured, still trying to wrap his head around the whole situation, “according to the books, hunters don’t retire.”

Eliot raised an eyebrow, “It look like I’m retired?”

“Nah, man. But that’s what I mean. You have been. But obviously you ain’t got a problem going back in.”

Eliot sighed, “Do those books of yours ever tell you why hunters don’t get out?”

Hardison shrugged, physically fighting the urge to lean forward like a starry-eyed little kid, “Not really.”

“This world… it’s not something you can erase from your mind. Once you know it, you’re stuck in it. And no one goes into this life without a reason. I slayed my demons, both literally and figuratively, then I walked away. And for the past decade, I’ve had to turn a blind eye and walk away every time I’ve seen a monster. All just so I could stay out. Do you know what kind of nightmares that gives a man? Knowing he could’ve saved someone’s life, but walking away to keep fewer people safe just because he cares more about them?”

“You stayed away to keep us safe.” Parker said quietly.

Eliot nodded jerkily.

“And then you jumped back in to keep us safe.” Hardison added.

Eliot nodded again.

Parker cocked her head sideways at him, “You’re not walking away again.”

Eliot looked her in the eye, “Just because you know about this world doesn’t mean you have to leap into it.”

Parker shook her head at him as if he were a stubborn child, “Eliot, we help people. What else do you think we would do?”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want you guys to know.”

Parker straightened up suddenly, “That’s why Jamie wouldn’t stay, isn’t it? She wanted to protect us too.”

Eliot nodded as he slumped back in his chair, exhausted.

“Now that we know, will she come back?”

“I don’t know, Parker. Probably not.”

“Why not?” Parker nearly pouted.

Eliot couldn’t help a small smile, “Because she has a lot of enemies. All hunters do, but the Winchester’s... more so than others. Hunters tend to be a self-sacrificing lot, and the Winchester’s top that list, too. I don’t even know anymore how many times each of them has died. It doesn’t matter how happy she is with us, she’ll stay away to keep you guys safe.”

“And you.”

Eliot just stared at her.

Parker shrugged, “She loves you. Sure, she wants us to be safe, but she wants you to be safe more.”

Eliot shook his head, “She knows I can take care of myself.”

Parker shrugged again, “Doesn’t matter. Me and Hardison can take care of ourselves, but you still look out for us.”

Eliot shook his head more intensely, “It’s not the same, Parker.” he whispered before getting up and walking away.

“He loves her too.” Parker said, watching his retreating back. She turned to Hardison, “We should get her back. Can you try to find her again?”

“I can for sure.” Hardison told her.

“But you couldn’t before. And last time you tried right after she left. This time it’s been a month.”

Hardison grinned, “That was before I knew the books were true. Girl, I know how the Winchester’s do _everything_.”

Parker grinned back, “Let’s go steal a hunter.”

 

The knock on her door startled her. No one but Cas knew where she was, and he wouldn’t have knocked… regardless of how many awkward encounters that had already led to. To their credit, Parker and Hardison barely jumped when she swung the door open with a .45 in their faces. She dropped the gun to her side with an exasperated sigh, but eyed them warily. Before she could think better of it, she pulled her other hand out from behind the door and threw holy water in their faces.

Hardison wiped a hand down his face, “We ain’t demons, woman.”

Jamie raised an eyebrow.

“Wanna try silver too?”

Jamie’s other eyebrow joined the first.

Parker shrugged, “We know.”

Jamie stepped aside enough to let them in and checked the parking lot over quickly before closing and locking the door once again and double-checking her salt lines. She turned back around to see Parker perched on the edge of the rickety table next to her laptop and Hardison lounging in the chair next to it. Jamie perched on the edge of the bed, facing the two.

“So…” she started.

“We accidentally tried to hide in a warehouse full of vampires.” Parker offered, straight to the point as always.

Jamie’s eyes widened in panic, “Eliot?”

Hardison sat up and held his hands out, “Easy, girl. He’s fine. Barely got a few bruises.”

Jamie sagged with relief, then couldn’t help a small grin, “Probably not how he imagined you guys finding out.”

Parker shook her head solemnly. Haridson shifted nervously.

“You’re not freaking out as much as I expected. I knew Parker would take it in stride, but you…”

Parker grinned, “He’s spent the last week alternating between flipping out, yelling about something or another, asking a million questions, and once he even passed out.”

“Hey! We promised not to talk about that!” Hardison protested.

Parker shrugged, “It’s Jamie. She doesn’t count.” the blonde turned back to the hunter, “Eliot let me dump ice water on his face!”

At the mention of Eliot, Alec’s eyes shifted away nervously.

Jamie narrowed her eyes, “He doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

Both shook their heads.

Jamie shook her head in exasperation before sighing defeatedly, “How’d you find me anyway? Cas is the only one who knows where I am.”

“I created a tracking algorithm based on the patterns established in the books.” Hardison said proudly. “Took some doing, especially ‘cause I couldn’t track your car, but, yeah… here we are… who’s Cas?”

Jamie waved him off, “Later you’re explaining exactly how you found me, cause I’ll be damned if angels and demons can’t track me, but a freaking hacker can.”

“Angels?!”

“Bunch of dicks.”

“You know a lot about this stuff.”

Jamie grinned, recalling something Dean had said back in happier, easier days and chuckling bitterly at how messed up it was that those were considered good times, “We know a little about a lot of things… just enough to make us dangerous.”

 “Oh.”

“Now, why doesn’t Eliot know you’re here?”

Parker answered with a shrug, “He would’ve told us not to come.”

“Why did you?”

“Because now we know. So now you can come back.”

“Parker… I can’t. You guys not knowing is only part of the reason I stay away.”

“We know… but, we want you anyway. We don’t care that it’s dangerous.”

Tears sprung into Jamie’s eyes, “You should.” 


	14. I'd Come For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley sighed dramatically, “This bastard crawled out of a very deep pit of hell, and he’s got a grudge against the hunter who landed him there. And once he’s done dealing with that hunter, as brutally as possible, I might add, there is the potential that he could give the current management a run for its money.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from Nickelback’s song by the same name.

Eliot looked up when Parker and Hardison walked in. The anger he expected to feel wasn’t there, just resignation. He didn’t have a clue where they’d been, and if they didn’t want to be tracked, they couldn’t be. They weren’t the best for nothing, and he couldn’t protect them from everything. He didn’t quite expect the hints gun and motor oil and cinnamon and vanilla that wafted off both of them. He tensed as it hit him like a wall. He took a deep breath to steady himself.

Thankfully, his voice came out steady and quiet, “How is she?”

Hardison stopped in his tracks, “How the hell?”

Eliot’s jaw clenched, “You smell like her. It’s a very distinctive smell.”

Hardison smirked, but Parker elbowed him in the ribs before he could say anything.

“She’s good.” Parker answered.                          

Eliot nodded and turned his attention back to the dough he was kneading.

“She won’t come back.” Parker went on sadly, perching in a free corner of the counter.

“Tried to tell you that, darlin’.” Eliot said without looking at her.

“But it’s not ‘cause she doesn’t love us. It’s ‘cause she does.”

Eliot smirked sadly, “Tried telling you that, too.”

“It’s stupid.” Parker pouted.

“She wants you to be able to stay in the real world, Parker.”

“I’ve never lived in the real world. This is just a new other world.”

“And it’s even more dangerous than the one you already live in.”

Parker shrugged, “I guess.”

Eliot punched the dough one final time before dropping it into a bowl and covering it with a towel to rise. Then he turned to the fridge and pulled out a fresh batch of Parker’s favorite dip and a new bag of chips from the cabinet.

He dropped them next to her on the counter and lifted her chin gently with the tips of his fingers, “Cheer up, Parker. She’ll still be around.”

“But I want her around all the time.”

Eliot smiled sadly, “I know.”

For a while after that, the only sounds were Parker eating and Hardison twisting open an orange soda and snagging a few chips.

Eventually, Parker, sounding more normal, asked, “Are all monsters bad?”

The level of curiosity in her voice set Eliot’s internal alarms off instantly, and he answered cautiously, “Mostly, yeah. A few exceptions.”

“Like what?”

Eliot shrugged as he leaned against the counter, “Some vampires stick to animal blood. There are a few packs of werewolves that hold pretty strictly to themselves and avoid humans around their changes, stick to cow hearts and the like. A lot of shape-shifter’s aren’t so bad. Especially the ones that turn into dogs.”

Parker perked up, “Dogs?”

Eliot nodded warily, “Shifters can turn into all kinds of things.”

“Could we get one as a pet?” Parker asked excitedly.

 _And there it is._ Eliot thought.

Hardison spit his orange soda halfway across the kitchen.

“No!” Eliot said, not yelling, but definitely with a bit of volume, “They’re still people, Parker! And the folks who do keep them as pets are not right in the head.”

“Who’s not right in the head?” Nate asked, coming into the kitchen.

“You, man.” Eliot snapped at him.

“Well, if you’d rather us not be here…” Sophie started, following Nate in.

Eliot shook his head, “I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry. I’m just…”

“Jamie again?”

When Eliot pressed his lips together tightly, Parker answered, “She still won’t come back. Even though now we know why she was staying away.”

“You know –”

“Damn it, Parker!” Eliot cut Sophie off, “I’m still not explaining it to you.” he told her.

“If they know, you don’t have to!” Sophie snapped back.

“We won’t tell either.” Parker said quietly.

“Hmmm….” Nate hummed out, “Whatever this is… it’s serious if you won’t tell us, even after everything…”

“Whether you’re on the team or not, it’s still my job to protect you.” Eliot said quietly.

Alec and Parker nodded solemnly in agreement.

“Besides,” Alec spoke up, tone trying to lighten the mood, “ya’ll are nosy as hell for supposedly bein’ outta the game.”

“And speaking of being out of the game,” a new voice inserted, “your little clubhouse is woefully lacking in defenses, Spencer.”

In a blink, Eliot was in between the new comer and his team, one of his sharpest knives in hand. He eyed the man up and down. Mid-30’s, tall, athletic, and… off. Something not quite right.

“I know you?” Eliot asked with a forced casualness.

The man feigned a shock expression, “Oh, Eliot. I’m hurt. After all our history, you don’t recognize me?” And his eyes flicked black.

Eliot paled, “Alexander.”

 

“Crowley, what the hell do you want?” Sam asked warily, holding his demon-blade slightly in front of him.

Jamie’s hand rested casually at her waist, where she’d taken to wearing the blade Eliot had given her; the handle could be easily concealed by her shirt, and she felt better having it on her. Not only because of its abilities, but because it reminded her of Eliot.

The demon facing them held his hands up placatingly, “I’m actually here to help, as usual.”

Sam raised his eyebrows.

Crowley turned his attention to Jamie, “Your boyfriend is in trouble.”

Jamie’s hand closed tightly over the handle of the blade, “And you’re just telling me this out of the goodness of your heart?” she asked sarcastically.

“Let’s just say it would be mutually beneficial if you took out the demon that’s after him.”

“If it’s a demon why can’t you just deal with it yourself?” Sam asked.

“King of Hell, right?” Jamie added, sarcasm dripping even more heavily.

Crowley sighed dramatically, “This bastard crawled out of a very deep pit of hell, and he’s got a grudge against the hunter who landed him there. And once he’s done dealing with that hunter, as brutally as possible, I might add, there is the potential that he could give the current management a run for its money.”

“Alexander.” Jamie breathed out.

“And the girl gets it.”

“Why are you telling us? You could send anyone after him. If you got to him soon enough after he crawled out, you could send him right back, no matter how strong he usually is.”

Crowley shrugged, “I was a bit preoccupied dealing with the First Blade, I didn’t notice right away.”

Jamie’s free hand clenched into a fist, “That still doesn’t explain why you came to _us_.”

Crowley looked at her like she’d lost her mind, “Forgive me if I thought you might like to look out for your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Touchy, touchy. My point is, you have a personal interest. You care. There’s no trap here.” Crowley took a step back, “Besides, I have a soft spot for that little team of his, a sore spot for Alexander, and as much as you lot don’t need the ego boost, you are the bloody best.”

Crowley took another step back.

Jamie took a deep breath, even as her hand tightened impossibly further on her knife, and nodded. “Fine… how long do I have to get to him?”

“I’ve delayed Alexander as long as I can. He slipped, well killed, my tails, and moved the time table up. You’ll be lucky if you have five minutes.” Crowley answered before vanishing.

Sam turned toward her, “Do you think it’s a trap?”

Jamie shook her head, “Alexander is the demon that killed Eliot’s brother. The reason he got into hunting. When he finally took Alexander out, it was with an old, powerful, and touchy exorcism that sent Alexander just short of the cage, and if Eliot would’ve messed it up, it would’ve sent him in Alexander’s place. When that was done, he left the life.”

“Damn.”

Jamie nodded tightly.

“So how the hell are we gonna get to Portland in a few minutes? We’re in Maine.”

“Cas!” Jamie called desperately. “I know I told you not to leave Dean’s side, but please…” she choked out the last part.

Jamie stepped back from the gust as he appeared in front of them.

“What’s wrong?”

Jamie stepped forward and grasped his coat, “I need you to get us to Portland. Now.”

Without another question, Cas reached out and grasped Sam’s arm, and in a flash they were in the hall outside Leverage, Inc.

“Do you need anything else?” Cas asked.

Jamie shook her head, “Get back to Dean.”

Cas nodded and was gone.

 

Eliot squared off against the demon as four gasps sounded behind him, “Leave them out of this, Alexander. Your problem is with me.”

Alexander smiled evilly, “And what better way to get my revenge than taking out your family?”

“Over my dead body.”

“Oh, but I would so much rather kill you over theirs.” Alexander waved a hand and sent the knife in Eliot’s hand flying.

Eliot surged forward and tackled him into the dining table, cringing as he felt a chair shatter and stake of it drive under his ribs. Alexander kicked him off with ease and Eliot flew into a wall. Eliot jumped back to his feet and surged forward again, dropping at the last second and kicking Alexander’s feet out from under him. Alexander landed on the broken chair. Eliot immediately started chanting an exorcism, but felt his air cut off as an invisible force shoved him against a wall. He fought desperately to stay conscious, but the darkness overtook him quickly.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before a sharp slap pulled him back to wakefulness. He tried to surge to his feet, but found himself tied securely to a chair. He looked up, panicked, only to freeze at spying Nate, Sophie, Hardison and Parker pinned to the wall by an unseen force and all staring at him with pure terror in their eyes. He started struggling desperately against his bonds, only to stop at the sound of a chuckle.

“Oh, Eliot, surely you remember I’m not so easily duped as these pathetic humans you con these days.” Alexander chided.

Eliot glared, “Let them go. Your beef is with me.” he growled.

“And as I stated earlier, the best way to get to you, is through them.”

 

Jamie’s eyes widened in horror at sight that met her when they crept inside. Eliot was tied to a chair, bleeding from his side and a few other minor gashes on his arms and face. The rest of his team was pinned against the wall across from him. A demon stood in front of him, a sadistic expression on his face. It made Jamie’s stomach turn. Their only stroke of luck was that Alexander’s full attention, aside from whatever it took to keep the other four pinned to the wall, was on Eliot. Jamie motioned for Sam to work his way around the room to the right as she hugged the wall to the left.

Jamie crouched behind a wingback chair and watched as Sam got into position, crouched next to the kitchen counter, less than five feet from the demon.

“And as I stated earlier, the best way to get to you, is through them.” Alexander said.

 

Sam moved at her nod. Within seconds, he towered behind the demon.

“Actually,” he said, causing the demon to spin toward him, startled, “the best way to get to him is probably through my sister.” and he buried his demon blade in Alexander’s heart.

Alexander stumbled back, clutching at where the blade had entered his chest as light crackled beneath his skin.

“Woo! Now that’s a bit of a rush!” Alexander chuckled weakly, his concentration broken enough that Eliot’s team slumped to the ground, no longer pinned by demonic power.

Sam’s eyes went white and he paled in horror.

Jamie had used the momentary distraction to sprint out from her hiding space to stand behind him, between him and Eliot. With Sam in front of him, there was a hunter between him and any of his intended victims.

Jamie yanked her own Kurd blade from its sheath at her waist. Sam’s eyes widened even further at the sight of it.

“Sam, again.” she said quietly.

Alexander spun toward her and she lunged forward, burying her blade where Sam had previously buried his, at the same moment Sam buried his to the hilt in the demon’s back. With an almost blinding crackling of light beneath his skin, Alexander collapsed in a smoking heap.

 

Eliot could only stare as Jamie bent and yanked her blade from Alexander’s chest and used his own jacket to carefully wipe the blade clean. She spared his slowly rousing team a cursory glance as she placed the blade carefully back in its sheath.

“Where the hell did you get that?” Sam demanded as he retrieved his own knife. “And how long have you had it?”

Jamie smirked at him sassily, “Jealous?”

Sam raised an eyebrow.

 _Guess sass runs in the family._ Eliot thought vaguely.

“It was a gift.” Jamie stuck her tongue out at her brother and Eliot couldn’t help but chuckle.

Jamie turned quickly toward him and immediately set to work on his bonds. As soon as he was free, he tried to stand, but only succeeded in slumping forward into Jamie’s waiting arms.

“Easy there, cowboy.” Jamie grinned at him before looking over her shoulder with a look of indecision on her face.

“Parker’ll be closest to not freaking out.” Eliot offered.

She turned briefly back to him and grinned, “Thanks.” Then she turned her head again. “Parker?”

Parker’s head snapped toward her.

“You with me?”

Parker nodded.

“I need Eliot’s med kit.”

Parker nodded again and scampered off down the hall.

She returned a minute later, just as Sam came out of the kitchen with freshly washed hands. He nudged her aside gently, and it was only then that she realized how badly her hands were shaking.


	15. You Owe Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What should scare you is this: One, I can kill you if I feel like it. Two, now I know how precarious your grip on your precious throne is.

As Sam stitched him up, Eliot alternated between carefully watching his team, and carefully watching Jamie. Parker was suspended on a harness halfway to their ceiling executing a series of complicated flips. Nate and Sophie still sat where they’d slumped to the floor, staring in wide-eyed shock at the body lying in a puddle of blood on the floor. When the initial shock had worn off and Hardison had realized Jamie was still shaking, he’d pulled her down onto the nearest couch and wrapped his arm tightly around her. She’d curled into his side and slowly stopped shaking as her eyes flicked back and forth between Eliot and Alexander’s body.

“Alright, you’re good.” Sam told him quietly.

“Thanks.” Eliot nodded.

 He wanted to go to Jamie, but he knew he’d take another nose-dive if he tried to stand right now.

Instead he turned to Sam and asked, “How’d you know to come?”

At the same time Hardison asked, “Am I gonna have to burn this place?”

One, or both, of the questions seemed to snap Jamie out of her daze and she sat up abruptly.

 

Jamie turned to Alec first, “No. It’ll be fine.”

“Fine?!” Sophie’s voice finally sounded shrilly. “There’s a bloody body on the floor! You just killed a man in the middle of the…” Sophie trailed off, losing steam as tears began streaming down her face.

“He wasn’t a man.” Eliot said levelly.

“I’m guessing those eyes weren’t a trick of the light.” Nate said shakily as he wrapped an arm around Sophie’s shaking shoulders. Her outburst seemed to have snapped him out of his own shock as well.

Eliot shook his head.

“So… what was he – it?”

“Demon.”

Nate scoffed.

All three hunters met him with stony gazes.

“Not kidding, then.”

“Not at all.” Jamie said.

Nate gulped, “I need a drink.”

Jamie pointed Sam into the kitchen and he came back with two glasses of whiskey, which Nate and Sophie quickly downed.

Nate took a deep breath, seeming to collect himself, “So… how’s this all going to be fine?”

Jamie smirked just slightly, “The King of Hell owes me.”

Nate raised an eyebrow questioningly.

Sam looked at her like she’d seriously lost it, “You want to ask a favor from Crowley?” he asked incredulously.

Jamie nodded toward Alexander, “Three wounds and the combined power of two Kurd blades to take that son of a bitch out. It would take less than that to kill Crowley. I think he downplayed the threat against his throne. The least he can do is clean up the damn mess.”

Sam still looked uncertain, but nodded, “Fine, but Devil’s trap.” And grabbed a marker off nearby table and set to work.

Jamie pulled her phone out five minutes later and punched in ‘666.’ Hardison looked at her dubiously as she sent the call signal and switched on the speaker.

“I take it you’re alive then?” Crowley’s voice crackled.

“You know where we are. You have 30 seconds after I hang this phone up to get your ass over here.”

“And what’s my incentive?”

“Don’t show, and I summon you anyway. But in that scenario, I stick you with my favorite Kurd blade and gladly deal with another regime change in hell.”

Instead of answering, Crowley appeared before her, tucking his phone back into his pocket. Hardison yelped and jumped over the back of the couch.

Jamie grinned smugly up at Crowley as she stood to face him, “Knew you’d see things my way.”

Crowley shrugged noncommittally, “Maybe I felt like showing off. You should know that little pig sticker in Moose’s belt,” Crowley tipped his head backward slightly, in Sam’s direction, “won’t kill me.”

Jamie’s grin grew, “Maybe not.” She pulled her own blade out of its sheath, “But I’m willing to bet mine’s got a shot.”

Crowley took a couple involuntary steps backward, directly into Sam’s devil’s trap. He looked down, “Bloody hell. All these years and you still don’t trust me?”

Jamie shrugged, “Sorry.”

“Sterling?!” Nate’s disbelieving voice sounded.

Jamie turned her head toward Nate as Crowley sighed deeply.

Eliot groaned, “Oh… the past few years make so much more sense now.”

Comprehension slowly dawned on Jamie. She turned to Eliot, “Jim Sterling?”

Eliot nodded.

Nate was staring at Crowley in confusion.

“Want me to clear this up?” Jamie asked.

Nate nodded, eyes remaining on the demon in the devil’s trap.

“Jim Sterling, as you know him, is actually Crowley, top crossroads demon and reigning King of Hell.”

Nate looked toward Jamie and opened and closed his mouth a few times before settling on, “Huh.”

Crowley threw his hands up in exasperation, “Can we get on with whatever it is you want from me? I do have better things to do than loaf around with you lot.”

“Like run Hell?” Jamie asked, eyes widened comically and tone dripping with faux sweetness.

“Preceisely.” Crowley snapped.

“Testy, testy.”

Crowley glared at her.

“First thing you’re going to do it clean up that mess.” Jamie waved toward Alexander.

“I’m not your maid.”

Jamie grinned with a cold glint in her eye and stepped up to the edge of the devil’s trap, “Alexander there… well, we both know he was strong enough to take you out if he’d lived past carrying out his little vendetta against Eliot.”

“Point?” Crowley asked after a moment’s hesitation.

“Until I decide we’re even, you are my bitch. Otherwise, I make sure everyone knows how close you were to losing your throne.”

“Is that supposed to scare me?”

“No. What should scare you is this: One, I can kill you if I feel like it. Two, now I know how precarious your grip on your precious throne is.”

“What? And you plan to take it from me?”

Jamie shook her head and smiled widely, “No. I plan to give someone else the power to. You were scared of Cain even when he didn’t have the First Blade. He’s stronger than you could ever hope to be, with or without the Mark. Imagine if Dean transferred it back to him and we set him on your trail.”

Crowley shook his head, but fear had entered his eyes, “You couldn’t.”

Jamie pouted at him condescendingly, and went on dramatically, “Just imagine! Sammy, how do you think Cain is going to feel when tell him that some pathetic crossroads demon, who fancies himself the King of Hell, has spent all these years harboring one of the Knights of Hell that killed his precious bride?”

Sam made an exaggerated shrug, “Don’t know, Jai. Can’t imagine he’d be too thrilled.”

“You’re lying.” Crowley accused.

Jamie’s smile vanished, “Willing to test that?”

Crowley said nothing.

“Like I said, until further notice, you are at my beck and call. And your first job, is to clean this damn mess up.”

 

After Crowley left and there was no sign of the previous struggle, Nate leaned back on the couch watching Jamie demon-proof the apartment.

He turned slightly toward Sophie, “Did I sound that creepy when I went after marks directly like that?”

Sophie pursed her lips, “Not quite… do you think she was conning him?”

“She was.” Sam’s voice came from behind them.

They both turned to look at him over the back of the couch.

“We don’t have a clue where Cain is, we only have a vague idea of how to transfer the Mark to another person, and there’s no way Cain would ever believe there’s still a Knight of Hell alive, much less being harbored somewhere.”

The grifter and the mastermind stared wide-eyed at the younger man.

Finally Nate shook his head, “And when you say Cain…”

Sam grinned slightly, “Yeah, the biblical Cain.”

 

“We have our own safe houses.” Eliot told Jamie as she rifled through his closet, filling his duffle bag.

“Demon-proofed?” she called out.

“A couple of mine.”

“Not good enough.”

“Jamie…”

Jamie came out of the closet and sat on the bed next to him. She put a finger gently to his lips, “No. Eliot, I don’t want to hear a single one of your excuses or reasons why this is a bad idea. I’m done with excuses. Until we know Crowley is gonna play by my rules, and until we’re sure Alexander escaped the pit alone, you all need to lay low. There’s nowhere safer than where we’re taking you.”


	16. Lifelines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is that pie?” Dean’s voice drifted into the kitchen.
> 
> Eliot spun away from the stove, surprise evident on his face. Jamie’s head snapped up from the latest of the countless books she’d explored.
> 
> “Seriously, asshole?” Jamie snapped incredulously. “You’re lying back there dying, and pie is what brings you back to consciousness?”

 “Do we want to take 70 or 80?” Sam asked glancing up from his computer.

“70. If we take 80, we’ll have to stop at the Roadhouse.”

“80 runs the south half of the state, and the Roadhouse is way north.”

“Think Ellen cares? The fact that we’re in the state at all means she’ll expect us to stop in.” Jamie challenged.

Sam chuckled and turned back to his computer as Jamie ordered Hardison to help her cart everyone’s luggage down to the van.

“Why do I have to play pack mule while gigantor just chills?” Hardison complained.

“Sam is busy.” Jamie answered, her tone brooking no argument.

Hardison glanced toward Eliot, who was lying back on the couch.

“Let me stop you before you stick your foot in your mouth. Just don’t.”

Haridson started to open his mouth anyway.

“Don’t even think about it.” Jamie said warningly. “Pick up the damn bag.”

Hardison sighed dramatically, but obeyed without further protest.

 

Jamie quickly discovered that road tripping with the Leverage crew was not an experience she was keen to repeat. Eliot dozed in the passenger seat of her Chevelle while Nate and Sophie chatted quietly in the back seat, occasionally shooting furtive glances toward her. Some of their tenseness from the previous day had bled away, but they were still nervous and jumpy. Over the coms, Jamie could hear Parker asking at least twice an hour how much longer, Hardison whining about rerouting satellites just so Sam wouldn’t lose internet connection, and she could just picture Sam’s jaw tensing as he ground his teeth together.

“How’d you do it?” Nate’s voice drifted forward.

Jamie glanced at him in the rearview, and caught his gaze on Eliot’s sleeping form, “Do what?” she asked coyly.

Nate met her gaze in the mirror and smirked knowingly, but indulged in her little game, “Eliot sleeps 90 minutes a night on average. He’s slept twice that since we left Portland.”

Jamie shrugged, “Maybe he just feels safe enough to let his guard down?” she hedged.

Nate’s eyes narrowed, “We were almost killed by a demon last night.”

“And he knows Sam and I can handle anything that comes now.”

Nate quirked an eyebrow.

Jamie sighed in defeat, even as a grin tugged at her lips, “I might’ve drugged his coffee this morning.”

Nate and Sophie’s eyes both widened in shock, but it took less than a minute for Sophie to collapse into a fit of giggles and Nate to lean back chuckling.

“Did I hear that right?” Hardison’s voice came in her ear, “You drugged Eliot?”

Jamie shrugged before remembering Alec couldn’t see her, “His body needs rest to heal, I knew he wouldn’t let himself sleep, and I knew he wouldn’t have anything to do for hours but sit.”

She could picture Hardison shaking his head as he informed her, “You got balls, woman.” before going back to griping about satellites again.

By the time she pulled her Chevelle, with Hardison pulling Lucille in behind her, into the bunker’s garage the next night, she had a raging headache and white-knuckled grip on her steering wheel. Eliot had woken up, grumpy over being drugged, the previous afternoon and slept a total of less than two hours the rest of the day and insisted on being the one to keep watch at the motel that night. Jamie had been too tired to argue, but promptly bullied Sam into drugging him again, with a stronger dose, the next morning (he wouldn’t accept any food or drink from Jamie). She walked around to the passenger side and gently shook Eliot awake. She made sure to hold his arms firmly pinned to his sides so he couldn’t take a swing.

“Rise and shine, grumpy.” she said quietly.

He shot up as expected, but stopped struggling as soon as her face registered, “Wha–”

“We’re here.”

“You drugged me again.” he growled accusingly, even as he let her help him out of the car and wrapped his arm around her shoulders for support.

Jamie shrugged unapologetically and fought the urge to slam the car door when Hardison and Parker toppled out of the van bickering. Nate’s eyes scanned the garage and he let out a low whistle appreciatively.

“Touch the cars and I will lock you in the dungeon.” Jamie warned. She felt Eliot chuckle.

Alec stopped midway between whatever he was griping at Parker about and turned to her with a stunned expression, “You have a dungeon?”

“Yes.” Sam said, pinching the bridge of his nose and leaning back against Lucille, “And if you two don’t shut up, I swear I’ll lock you in there together.”

Hardison and Parker both wisely snapped their mouths shut, but Hardison looked excitedly antsy.

Jamie sighed deeply, “Here’s the deal while you’re here: make yourselves at home, but _only_ in designated areas. This is the probably the safest place on the planet, but that doesn’t mean everything _in_ it is safe. We’ll show you to your bedrooms then meet in the library to lay some ground rules.” Jamie turned toward the door and added under her breath, “We really don’t need anyone waking up another witch.”

“Say what?!” Hardison squawked behind her, causing her to realize she still had her com in. She yanked it out and shoved it into her pocket.

Jamie glanced over her shoulder, “Relax. Charlie killed her before she went back to Oz with Dorothy.” And she had to admit that yeah, maybe she put it like that just to see the look on Hardison’s face. He didn’t disappoint. She was pretty sure ‘gob smacked’ was the appropriate description.

 

Jamie slipped silently into Dean’s room. Cas looked up from his chair as she perched on the end of the bed.

Jamie gulped past the lump in her throat, “How is he?”

Cas answered hesitantly but steadily, “He is not well. He has bouts of consciousness, but overall… we must find a solution. And we must find a solution quickly. The Mark is killing him.”

Jamie closed her eyes as a few tears escaped. She nodded slowly, “You can go.”

“I do not wish to leave.”

Jamie opened her eyes and shook her head at the confusion in his wide blue eyes, “And we don’t want you to, but we’re back now. We can look after him while you look for answers in places we can’t get to.”

Cas considered briefly before nodding and vanishing.

 

Eliot looked up as Jamie walked into the library, coffee in hand.

He nodded toward her cup, “That can’t be healthy. I stopped counting after your fifth.”

Jamie shrugged, “‘Cause I have such a long life expectancy anyway.”

Eliot’s eyes darkened.

Jamie lifted her free hand and made a frustrated gesture as she sat next to him, “That came out wrong.”

“Then, please, tell me what you actually meant.” Eliot said acidly.

Jamie dropped her head to the table before looking back up and meeting his eyes, “I’ve already died 5 times, at least that I know of. And the last time won’t be the last time. I don’t have any plans to live a short life or a long life. I just take it a day at a time, and right now, coffee is my lifeline, because I’m Dean’s lifeline.” She reached for one of the stacks of books she had sorted out that morning.

Eliot’s head spun, trying to decide what to focus on first. What finally came out was, “That you know of?”

Jamie smirked without looking up from her book. “Made a trip to Heaven once. Ash told us we’ve died more times than we remember.”

Eliot shook his head. The whole angel thing was still weird. And wrapping his head around the number of times each of the Winchester’s had died was mind boggling. His scrambling brain finally clinched onto another important admission, “Dean. I haven’t seen him since we got here and you and Sam haven’t come up for air from your books and laptops since we got in last night. Is he on a hunt?”

Jamie tensed and her eyes stopped scanning the book. Eliot reached under her chin and gently turned her to face him. There were tears in her eyes, and she was gripping her coffee cup so hard the handle was beginning to crack.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?”

Jamie gulped, “Dean… long story short, he took on the Mark of Cain so he could have the power to wield the First Blade and kill a Knight of Hell–”

“Knight of Hell?”

“A very, very strong demon… but after… he was killed by an angel. The power of the Mark brought him back, but it also turned him into a Knight of Hell.” Jamie’s voice became more and more strained as she went on. “We… mostly Sam, figured out how to cure him–”

“Cure being a demon?” Eliot asked incredulously.

Jamie nodded absently, “A blood ritual. So, not a demon anymore. But he still had the Mark. We knew it would be a problem, we just didn’t know when or how. Now… now it’s killing him.”

Eliot wrapped him arms around her tightly as she choked out a sob. “You’re trying to figure out how to save him.”

Jamie nodded against his shoulder.

“Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

Jamie shrugged, “What can you do?”

Eliot pushed her back gently and looked her in the eye, “Offer 5 extra sets of eyes. Just tell us what to look for.”

 

“Is that pie?” Dean’s voice drifted into the kitchen.

Eliot spun away from the stove, surprise evident on his face. Jamie’s head snapped up from the latest of the countless books she’d explored.

“Seriously, asshole?” Jamie snapped incredulously. “You’re lying back there dying, and pie is what brings you back to consciousness?”

Dean shrugged, “Love me some pie.”

Jamie shook her head. “At least sit down.”

“Do I get pie?”

“Only if you sit your ass down.”

“Fine.” Dean sat next to her, invading her personal space as only a brother can.

“I’m not hauling your massive ass down the hall if you pass out again. I want you sitting nice and safe in a chair where I can leave you.” Jamie explained, sticking her tongue out at her brother and trying desperately to keep her tone light.

“Hey! My ass is not massive.” he protested.

Jamie quirked an eyebrow, “You mean you wear your jeans that tight on purpose?”

In seconds, all three burst out laughing.

Dean sobered first, “How long was I out this time?”

“You’ve been delirious for three days.” Jamie answered quietly, tears springing into her eyes.

Dean nodded and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side almost absentmindedly. “Cas checked in?”

Jamie nodded, “Yesterday. Nothing yet.”

“Bobby?”

Jamie checked her watch, “Should be here within the hour.”

Dean jerked up straight, “He’s coming here?!”

“And bringing a truckload of books.”

Dean sat back, albeit a little tensely, and wrapped his arms tighter around her shoulders.

Eliot sat two big slices of apple pie in front of them. Dean released her shoulders to dig into the pie and started moaning in a way that made Jamie blush.

“Seriously, dude… those sounds are disturbing.” Jamie shoved his shoulder.

“This pie is better than sex.” Dean said around a mouthful of crust.

Jamie rolled her eyes, “Keep your mouth closed when you chew.”

Dean opened his mouth wide, giving her a view of half-chewed pie.

Jamie quirked an eyebrow, “Keep that up and you won’t get another piece.”

“And you’re gonna stop me?”

Jamie shrugged, “I’ll tell Eliot not to make any more.”

Dean scoffed, “Yeah, because you’re the boss.”

Jamie grinned mischievously and leaned close to her brother’s ear, “I’m willing to bet that El disagrees with your theory that pie is better than sex.”

Dean choked on his pie and Jamie managed to hide her triumphant smirk until she was in the hall.     

Eliot found her in the library 15 minutes later. She looked up expectantly.

“He managed three slices of pie and threatened to dislocate my jaw before he passed out again.” he told her ruefully. “Any idea what I did to deserve that?”

Jamie bit back her chuckle, “I might’ve implied we were sleeping together.”

Eliot groaned, “Do you _want_ your brothers to kill me?”

Jamie did chuckle then as she leaned toward him, “Definitely not.”

She kissed him once, gently, before getting up to open the garage for Bobby and leaving him staring after her.

 

Jamie jerked awake as a ridiculously large, dusty, old book was dropped next to her head.

“What the hell?” she looked up into Cas’ blue eyes, “Cas?”

“Very nearly. A realm much like purgatory.”

Jamie raised an eyebrow in question.

“The answer.” Cas nodded toward the book without offering an explanation.

Jamie eyes widened and she flung the book open. Cas leaned over next to her to flip to the appropriate section. Jamie didn’t notice that he was very much invading her personal space. Nor did she notice Sam and Bobby hovering over their shoulders.

“Here.” Cas pointed.

“What language is that? I can’t read this.”

“It has long been dead on earth.”

“What does it say, Cas?” Jamie asked impatiently.

“The translation is not exact.”

“Give me the gist of it.”

“It’s a way to… deactivate the Mark. Render it powerless. It would be no more than a scar.”

“How?” Jamie snapped.

“Kill the demon who activated it.”

“Cain?” Bobby asked.

Jamie’s mind flew and she shook her head, “No. He gave Dean the Mark. I think Cas means the demon who activated it to bring Dean back, right?”

Cas nodded, “Yes.”

Sam said the name like a curse, “Crowley.”


	17. To Kill a Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, summon and stab?

Jamie slumped back in her chair and shook her head, “Even after all the shit we’ve gone through because of him, killing Crowley feels wrong somehow.”

Sam laughed ruefully, “Yeah… it kind does.”

“But if it comes down to him or Dean?” Bobby asked.

Jamie yanked her Kurd blade out, “One way trip past the point of no return.”

“That statement is redundant.” Cas said, brows drawing together in confusion.

Jamie shook her head with a chuckle and elected to ignore him.

“So… do we… I don’t know, just summon and stab?” Sam asked.

“Is there some kind of ritual?” Bobby asked. “And where the hell did you get that blade?”

“I gave it to her.” Eliot said coming into the room with a tray of coffee cups.

_I could kiss him._ Jamie thought as he set the last coffee cup down in front of her. Then she realized there was nothing stopping her, so she did. Sam coughed and looked away, Bobby grumbled into his coffee and Cas just stood there.

Jamie pulled away, “Thanks for the coffee.”

Eliot took a deep breath, “If that’s what I get for bringing you coffee, I’m gonna stop complaining about how much of it you drink.”

Jamie smirked.

She started to shove the blade back in its sheath before pausing and looking at Eliot again, “Now that you’re back in the game–”

“Don’t even think about asking if I want that back. It’s yours. Besides, I still feel better knowing you have it with all the trouble you get into.”

Bobby laughed, “That girl’s been too good at finding trouble since before she could walk.”

Jamie scrunched her nose and stuck her tongue out at her dad affectionately.

Sam cleared his throat.

Jamie sobered, “Back to business.”

Sam nodded, “So, summon and stab?”

Jamie shook her head, “Summoning isn’t a guarantee. We’ve learned from experience that Crowley can appear at a summons or ignore it just as easily.”

“Okay… that angel tracker Charlie set up. Maybe we could, I don’t know, reprogram it for demons? Crowley’s signature would, in theory, be different from the other demons.”

Jamie nodded, “It’s a start. It’ll only work if he’s on earth, but it’s something.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” all the hunters jumped as Nate pushed off a wall, “but at the moment, isn’t Crowley, and I quote, ‘your bitch’ right now? I don’t imagine it would be all that wise to ignore you.”

“That whole lurking in the shadows thing is creepy as hell, Nate.” Jamie told the man.

“And likely to get you shot in present company.” Eliot added.

Nate raised his hands in surrender.

Jamie sighed, “And yeah, you’re right, but no matter what threats I have up my sleeve, Crowley won’t come to the bunker willingly. Not exactly his favorite place to be trapped.”

Nate raised an eyebrow, “That implies you’ve held him here before.”

Jamie shrugged noncommittally, “We’ve held him lot of places. I think Dean’s trunk was my favorite though.”

Parker suddenly flew down from the harness she’d attached to the ceiling, “So the stories about Sterling in a trunk are true?”

Jamie looked up at the thief in confusion.

Eliot shook his head, “Not exactly, Parker. We’ll explain later.”

Parker shrugged, “Okay.”

Jamie ran a hand through her hair, “Okay, Sam, go wake Hardison up. He can help you reprogram the tracker. Dad, you and Eliot make sure the dungeon is secure. Cas, I need you to help me translate everything in this book that has anything to do with the Mark.”

“And what can we do?” Nate asked.

“Breakfast run, if you don’t mind. Get anti-possession charms from Sam before you leave.”

 

“What?!” Jamie finally snapped.

Nate had been fidgeting for nearly two hours and Jamie was about two minutes from knocking him out.

“Well… I mean, do you have to kill him?” Nate asked nervously.

Jamie’s eyed hardened, “Nate, he’s not your friend. I don’t know how long he’s been possessing Sterling, but… Crowley is a demon. A monster.”

Nate leaned forward, “I get that. I do. But I’ve only ever known him as Jim Sterling, and Jim Sterling has been a bastard to deal with in more recent years, but at one point, he was my friend. Whether he’s been Crowley as long as I’ve known him or not is beside the point, because he’s always been a friend to some point.”

Jamie shook her head, “And I respect that. I do. But it comes down to Crowley or my brother. And I will kill Crowley. And I won’t lose any sleep over it. You think my brothers and I are bad. You don’t want to know the things he’s done.”

“I never said–”

“You didn’t have to. The things I kill are not people, Nate. We’re the good guys.”

 

“We found Crowley.” Sam’s voice rang down the hallway.

Jamie sprinted in so fast she nearly barreled into him. He reached out his shoulders to steady her. As soon as she had her balance she turned to look at the monitors.

“What the hell is doing in Florida?” Jamie wrinkled her nose.

“No idea.” Sam shrugged.

“I am not going to Florida.”

“We could send Cas after him.”

“Alone? Hell no.”

“Then what?”

“We wait an hour or two and hope he moved within quick driving range.”

“He’s gone.”

Jamie’s gaze snapped back to the screens and she scanned maps quickly. Her eyes widened. “Sam.”

“What?”

“He’s here.”

“What?”

“Look!” Jamie pointed. “Here. Crowley is _here_.”

 

Crowley raised an eyebrow when the doors to the bunker flew open. Moose stood front and center, his demon knife in hand. Jamie flanked his right with her own demon knife and Spencer flanked his left with what appeared to be a bucket of holy water.

“You all really need to work on how you greet guests.” he informed them.

“Guests are invited.” Jamie spat back.

“What do you want, Crowley?” Sam asked.

Crowley shrugged, “Just a friendly chat.”

“You don’t step foot in here unless we cuff you.”

Crowley held out his hands.

The dungeon was exactly like he remembered it. Although this time the chair they provided was even less comfortable than the last one.

“What do you want, Crowley?” Sam repeated his earlier question.

“I actually came with good news.” Crowley replied snappishly.

“Oh, pray tell.” Jamie said, feigning excitement.

Crowley fought the urge to roll his eyes, “I’ve confirmed Alexander escaped alone. Your pet cons are safe to go back to their thieving.”

 

Jamie felt the relief seep into her very bones and sagged against the wall a bit. Then she narrowed her eyes suspiciously, “You could have told us that over the phone.”

Crowley sighed dramatically. “Look, I got some cryptic call from an irritatingly familiar voice telling me that the fate of heaven, earth, and hell depended on my being here now. I can’t place the damn voice, but I happen to like earth and hell right where they’re at. Figured I might as well help.”

A pang of guilt shot through Jamie at what ‘helping’ was probably going to require of him.

Jamie yanked her phone out of her pocket.

It took three rings for him to answer and her to demand, “Did you call Crowley.”

“You’re welcome.” Chuck’s tired voice came across the line.

“Heaven, earth, and hell?”

“Yeah.”

“Do I even wanna know?”

“Probably not.”

“What _do_ I need to know?”

Chuck hesitated.

“Chuck! Now is _not_ the time to fuck around with me. This is my brother’s life!”

“You don’t have to kill Sterling to kill Crowley.”


	18. Heaven nor Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We don’t have to kill Sterling to kill Crowley!” Jamie said excitedly waving a stack of translations in his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Title from Volbeat song

Jamie stared at her phone, trying to make sense of what Chuck said.

She finally shook her head and told Sam she was going to the library. He just nodded and walked out with her, closing the doors on a loudly protesting Crowley. She repeated the conversation with Chuck as they walked. Sam shrugged, not understanding it any more than she did.

 

Eliot was just starting to doze off when Jamie sat up abruptly, sending books and papers toppling off her lap and to the floor.

“Damn it, Jamie!” Eliot growled.

“We don’t have to kill Sterling to kill Crowley!” Jamie said excitedly waving a stack of translations in his face.

“What?”

But she was gone, sprinting down the hall and calling for Sam.

 

By the time Jamie found Sam in Dean’s room, talking with Cas, she’d woken up everyone in the bunker with her screaming, but she didn’t even notice them as she waved the papers in his face.

“We don’t have to kill Sterling to kill Crowley!”

Sam looked questioningly at Eliot who was leaning in the doorway.

Eliot shrugged, “Don’t ask me, man.”

“Would you quit screaming?” Dean griped from the bed.

Jamie stopped screaming but hopped on her now-awake brother’s bed and bounced excitedly.

“What the hell has her so riled up?” Dean grumbled, squinting up at Sam.

Sam shrugged as Cas flitted around Dean like a nervous nurse. Jamie batted his hands away and hauled Dean into a sitting position before waving the papers in his face.

“We don’t have to kill Sterling to kill Crowley!” she repeated.

Dean narrowed his eyes at her, “Not that I’m against it, but why are we killing Crowley?”

Jamie shot a desperately frustrated look at Sam.

“We found a way to essentially deactivate the Mark. Kill the demon who activated it.” Sam explained.

“But we don’t have to kill Sterling to kill Crowley!” Jamie said again.

Dean looked to Sam this time, “Sterling?”

“Crowley’s meat suit app – oh.” Comprehension dawned on Sam’s face. He looked at Jamie. “Do you really think it’ll work?”

Jamie shrugged, her excitement finally dying down now that someone else got it, “If it doesn’t, we kill him. But this gives him a chance.”

“I’ll go get the blood.”

“What the hell is going on?!” Dean exploded as Sam made his way out the door.

Jamie took a deep breath and faced the door, “Can ya’ll give us a minute?”

Eliot nodded and ushered everyone back down the hall, closing the door behind him.

Dean looked expectantly at Cas, who maintained his previous position of staring at a wall.

“Cas!” Dean finally burst out.

Cas turned his face to look at Dean, “Yes?”

“Out!”

“But –”

“Cas, five minutes and you can come back and watch over him.” Jamie interjected.

Cas nodded tersely an vanished.

“What’s going on, sis?” Dean asked.

Jamie met eyes that matched her own and reached out to grasp Dean’s hand tightly, “Cas found a book with a cure. It won’t remove the Mark itself, but it will remove the power of the Mark. It’ll just be a weird scar. We have to kill the demon who activated the Mark.”

“Crowley.”

“Right. So we were trying to find him and get him here, and we were all kind of feeling shitty about the idea of killing him, even after everything he’d put us through, but between you and him, it wasn’t even a choice. But then he just shows up on our doorstep and –”

“Breathe, sis!” Dean laughed.

Jamie took a deep breath, “I figured out Chuck sent him. I’m still not sure why he actually came, but that’s beside the point. Chuck gave me this cryptic comment, ‘You don’t have to kill Sterling to kill Crowley.’ before he hung up. We’ve spent two days racking our brains trying to figure it out. And I just realized. Sterling is a meat suit. We can kill the demon inside him without killing _him_.”

“The blood purification ritual.”

“Exactly! It kills the demon without killing the man.”

“We’ve tried it on Crowley before.”

Jamie shook her head fiercely, her hair flying around her face, “We never finished it. And Sam was already weak from the other trials. It’ll work this time.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Jamie pulled the Kurd blade from her waist, “I’ll end him.”

Dean nodded before doing a double-take of the blade, “Where did you get that?”

Jamie just winked and sheathed it again.

“Eliot.”

Jamie grinned.

Dean chuckled, then sobered and said quietly, “If any of this goes wrong… you know where I end up if this doesn’t work.”

Jamie leaned forward and cupped her brother’s cheek in her hand, “And if you do, I’ll storm the gates of hell and start a war even Heaven and Hell haven’t seen the likes of to get you back.” she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead before squeezing his hand one last time and walking out of the room, calling Cas back as she went.

 

Eliot watched with concern as Jamie emptied 4 mags with deadly precision, barely blinking and moving robotically. He followed when she left the shooting range and watched as she began to pace the garage furtively. After a few minutes, he stepped cautiously out of the shadows. He was certain she saw him, but didn’t make any move to acknowledge him. After a few more minutes, he reached out and grasped her arm when she passed within reach.

Instinct and muscle memory took over for the next fifteen seconds. Jamie reached across to loosen his grasp. He blocked by grabbing her other wrist. She responded by viciously twisting away and he countered by going with it and spinning her until she was pinned against a pillar. Their minds seemed to take back over from instinct at the same time. Eliot could have, probably should have, stepped back. But he didn’t.

He loosened his grip on her wrists and lifted them above her head, repositioning them so he could grab both of hers hands with one of his to keep them pinned above her head. With his other hand, he gently brushed her hair out of her face before cupping it against the back of her neck. He took the hitch in her breath and the darkening in her eyes as encouragement and stepped forward, wedging a knee in between her legs. He moved his face toward he slowly, giving her plenty of time to tell him to stop. But she didn’t.

She leaned forward and their lips met halfway. His tongue pressed against her lips gently, and she opened her own. His hand pinning her wrists dropped and he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. Her now free hands dropped to around his neck as she tangled her fingers in his hair and she pulled him closer, even as he pressed her harder against the pillar at her back.

 

Sam shook his head at the couple as he pulled the Impala back into the garage. For two people who were usually aware of every detail around them, he was kind of amazed they both missed the roar of the engine and the slamming door. He briefly entertained the thought he should be grossed out and/or pissed off about some guy touching his baby sister like that, but it was Eliot, so all he could really think was, _About damn time._

But what kind of brother would he be if he just let them get away with it?

He cleared his throat and coughed loudly.

They didn’t spring apart like he expected, just pulled their faces back with dazed expressions, remaining a tangle of limbs.

“You know you have a bedroom right?” Sam put on a grossed out face and quirked an eyebrow at his sister.

Apparently her brain wasn’t functioning well enough to form words yet, because she just flipped him off before disentangling herself from Eliot and dragging him back toward the interior of the bunker.

Sam shook his head and headed for the dungeon. Jamie met him there five minutes later.

“That was fast.” he said casually, earning himself a not-very-gentle punch in the arm.

“As if I would even think about that knowing my brother knew exactly what I was doing.” Jamie shuddered.

“Ready for this?” Sam gestured toward the wall still blocking them from Crowley.

“He’s gonna spend the first six hours of this, at least, bitching at us for keeping him locked up for two days.”

Sam shrugged, “We’ve left him in there for longer than that before.”

“It’s Crowley. He’ll bitch at us for anything.”

Sam chuckled, “Yeah… think this’ll work?”

Jamie took a deep breath, “It has to.”

She nodded toward the wall and Sam stepped forward to help her pull it open.

Crowley looked up and blinked against the light. “Finally decide to grace me with your presence, I see.” he muttered sarcastically.

“Save the sass, Crowley. You’ll need it later.” Jamie snapped back at him before turning to help Sam with the blood bags.

“What are you doing, Moose?” Jamie could hear the panic Crowley was trying to mask with snark.

“Saving my brother.” Sam answered, handing the first syringe to Jamie and nodding at her after checking his watch.

“And saving your sorry ass in the process.” Jamie added, as she jabbed the needle into his arm and depressed the plunger.

Six hours later, Jamie was emotionally exhausted. Crowley had spent the entirety of the first three hours cursing at them, insulting them, and revealing secrets of things the Winchester’s had done for one another that no one should have known about. Sam had left, thoroughly pissed off at Jamie, after the third hour.

_“You never did tell your dear brothers about your deal with the angel, did you?” Crowley asked when he finished nearly choking on his own blood._

_Sam stiffened and looked at her wide-eyed, “What deal?”_

_Jamie clenched her fist and tried to fight the urge to punch Crowley. She failed. Had he been human, she probably would have broken his nose. As it was, she got a little satisfaction from the fact that he bled a little._

_“What deal, Jamie?!” Sam practically screamed._

_“It doesn’t matter. It’s been dealt with for a long time.”_

_“Jamie.” Sam’s voice was low, tense._

_Jamie took a deep breath, “When Cas took you guys back to save Dad and your mom.”_

_“What did you do?”_

_“Chuck called. After you left. You were going to fail. You were all going to die.”_

_“But we didn’t.”_

_“Because Michael showed up?” Crowley asked, all faux innocence._

_Sam’s jaw tensed and Jamie finally lifted her eyes to meet his._

_“What did you do, Jai?” he asked again, voice almost dangerously low._

_She took a fortifying breath and pushed forward, voice as steady as she could manage, “I summoned Michael. I begged him to save you. He said he would on one condition. He needed a vessel. He knew how unlikely it was for Dean to agree, and Adam was the next best option. But the ritual to raise him required Michael to have a temporary vessel.”_

_“You said yes to Michael.” Sam whispered._

_Jamie shrugged half-heartedly, “I was the right bloodline. And it was temporary.”_

_“But it might not have been!” Sam yelled. “What if he hadn’t held his end? What if he’d decided to stay?! You would’ve been the one in the box with me instead of Adam! Adam was bad enough, but we never knew him! You… I can’t even think about my baby sister spending a single second experiencing what I –” Sam seemed to choke on whatever he was going to say next and stormed out._

Eliot hadn’t left her side since the fourth hour. He’d come in five minutes after Sam left and wrapped his arms around her, not saying a word. Nate had come with him initially, but Jamie and Eliot had to physically remove him after the fifth injection, because he couldn’t seem to reconcile that Crowley was a demon, and not his friend and he started freaking out when Crowley’s voice went demonic and a smoky red filled his eyes. Jamie wished she could leave, even for five minutes, but after the near disaster when Dean escaped during the process of his cure, Jamie wasn’t taking her eyes off Crowley.

After the seventh injection, Crowley was fading in and out of consciousness, but during his lucid moments, he seemed resigned to his fate.

“You realize you get to deal with the headache of a regime change?” his voice floated over quietly.

Jamie looked up and shrugged, “Nothing we haven’t dealt with before.”

“Sorry about outing you to Moose.” Crowley said, actually sounding sincere.

That sincerity was what led her to answer honestly. She sighed her own resignation, “It would’ve come eventually… honestly, I was surprised Sam didn’t already know when he came back from the Cage. I don’t know why he didn’t. It would’ve been the perfect bit of information for Michael to taunt him with.”

Crowley nodded before passing out again. He woke up after only a few minutes.

“What in the bloody hell am I supposed to do as a human?” Crowley asked, sitting up as much as he could without straining against his bonds.

Jamie chuckled, “I honestly hadn’t considered it. But you’re smart, you’ll figure it out.”

“Sterling’s got a solid life.” Eliot offered. “Exciting job. Loving daughter.”

Crowley nodded thoughtfully and chuckled, “Demon to Interpol agent.”

“Not much difference from my perspective.”

Jamie chuckled along with Crowley at that one.

“I won’t regret it.” Crowley said suddenly.

“What?” Jamie asked, brows drawing together.

“This. Becoming human. Giving up the power. If it saves Dean, I won’t regret it. I might miss it, but I won’t regret it.”

Jamie stared at him in stunned silence.

“I meant it when I told Sam that Dean was my best friend.” Crowley admitted quietly.

Jamie shook out of her shock as her watch went off. She stood and picked up the last syringe, injecting it into a cup and approaching Crowley.

“Ready for this?” she asked.

Crowley opened his mouth. Jamie tilted the cup into his mouth and used her free hand to keep his mouth clamped shut as he swallowed.

Light emanated around Crowley as Jamie chanted, “ _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus. Hanc animam redintegra, lustra! Lustra!_ ”

Jamie pulled her hand away as Crowley’s eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out again. She pulled a flask of holy water from her back pocket and splashed him in the face with it. He came to sputtering, but not smoking.

He looked up at her with a half-hearted glare, “Is that really necessary?”

“ _Christo_.” Jamie answered. Crowley met her eyes without flinching.

Jamie leaned down and undid the cuffs locking Crowley to the chair. She stepped back and gestured to the edge of the devil’s trap. Crowley stood unsteadily, and walked right out of it.


	19. Cryptic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next time she saw Chuck, they were going to have a long, possibly painful, chat about his habit of making a cryptic comment before hanging up and leaving her hanging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I finished the last chapter late this afternoon, ran through a quick series of final edits, and decided to post the remainder of the chapters - enjoy, and please share your thoughts! ... and kudos! ;)

“I’m not leaving until we know this bloody gambit worked.” Crowl – er, Sterling insisted.

“If you’re going to keep living Jim Sterling’s life, you have to.” Hardison explained. “Interpol, bro. You work for the man, you gotta check in with the man.”

“Then I’ll check in.”

“Unless you’re checking in to tell them you’re on the trail of something big, just checking in won’t do it. They’ll have some new assignment.”

“Then I’ll lose the bloody job and figure something else out.”

“You could always be a hunter.” Eliot offered.

Crowley shot him an incredulous look. Jamie chuckled.

“Or a con.” Parker said.

Crowley grinned, “Now there’s an idea.”

“Oh! Damn! You’re all a mess. You’re supposed to be the best, and you can’t figure this out?” Sophie questioned.

All eye turned to her.

“Alec is right, he’ll have to turn something in when he returns. The world’s best thieves are all in this room. Surely one of us has something to hand off.”

Protests erupted around the room.

Nate held up a hand to silence his team, “Soph is right. We may not owe Sterling a damn thing, but we owe Sam and Jamie. They saved our lives. Then they used him to save Dean’s life. So ante up, what have we got that’s worth being missing and not checking in for a week?”

“I still have most of the diamonds from The Munseon in 2002.” Parker offered. “You can have Queen Mary’s wedding present.”

Hardison looked at his girlfriend wide-eyed, “That was you?”

Parker nodded happily.

Eliot shrugged, “I’ve still got those crowns from San Marino. Client backed out of the deal.”

“I don’t actually have anything, but I could point you in the direction of the guy who knows where the diamonds from Antwerp in 2003 are.” Hardison put in.

Sophie bit her lip nervously.

“Out with it Soph. This was your idea in the first place.” Nate urged.

“Oh alright! I’ll give you Cézanne's _View of Auvers-sur-Oise_.”

Nate looked at Sophie in surprise, “How come I didn’t know that was you?”

Sophie shrugged noncommittally, “You never needed to.”

“I vote he gets Antwerp.” Jamie said. “That way it can’t come back on any of you, and he still has to do some work.”

“Antwerp it is.” Nate clapped his hands together, “Hardison, get the man a phone and whatever information he needs.”

Hardison nodded and headed for his computer. Sterling followed.

“Oh, and Sterling?” Jamie called. Sterling turned to face her, “Use the knowledge they just shared about what they have to come after them, and I will kill you, human or not. Got it?”

Sterling nodded, eyes a little wide.

 

Dean opened his eyes slowly and stared at the ceiling. It felt like he was actually waking up, not coming out of another bout of unconsciousness. But much more significantly, the Mark on his arm no longer felt like it was on fire. He turned his head slowly to find Cas’ wide blue eyes on him. Cas cocked his head to the side, and peered at Dean in a way that Dean had learned over the years meant he was looking past him, to his soul.

“So what’s the verdict, Cas?” Dean croaked out.

Cas smiled widely, “Your soul is no longer weighed down by the Mark.”

“So it worked?”

“It worked.”

Dean heard shuffling to his other side and turned to see Sam crammed into a little chair.

“How do I look?”

Sam grinned and held out a bottle of water, “You’ve finally got more color than Death.”

Dean took a long drink before scanning the room again and realizing something was missing, “Where’s Jamie?”

Sam shifted his eyes away and Cas tensed, looking angry.

“She checked in after the ritual was done. Let us know Crowley was Sterling and all was well.” Sam said, not meeting Dean’s eyes.

“Uh huh, and why didn’t she stay?”

Sam shifted uncomfortably and didn’t answer.

Dean sat up carefully and looked back to Cas who was glaring at Sam. _If looks could kill,_ Dean started to think, and then derailed that thought when he remembered they could when it was an angel.

“Why didn’t she stay, Cas?” Dean asked.

“She is still in the bunker.” Cas answered shortly.

“Cut the bull, buddy. I know my sister. Why isn’t she in the room? There’s no way in hell she wouldn’t be if she had a choice.”

“She had no desire to remain in such close vicinity with Sam.”

Dean turned to glare at Sam as well, “What did you do?”

“It’s not what I did! It’s what she did!” Sam answered angrily.

“Your anger is unwarranted and unhelpful.” Cas reprimanded. “It is in the past and she knew the risk she took when she made the choice.”

“Somebody, tell me what the hell you’re talking about, now!”

 

Jamie heard footsteps coming toward the library, and turned more intently to her book, not wanting to deal with Sam. But then she listened closer and, recognizing Dean’s tread, surged to her feet and threw herself into her brother’s arms as he walked in. He hugged her tightly before gripping her shoulders and pushing her back to look in her eyes.

He gently brushed her hair out of her eyes, “Thanks.” he said quietly.

Jamie shrugged, “It’s what we do.”

“So, Michael?”

Jamie groaned and stepped back pointing a finger accusingly in her brother’s face, “Do _not_ start with me. I’ve gotten enough of the cold fury from Sam. I don’t need it from you too.”

Dean held his hands out in front of him, “Easy, girl. I wasn’t going to.” he smiled sadly, “I get it.”

Jamie relaxed fractionally.

“You gotta get where Sammy’s coming from, though. Give him some time. He’ll get over it.”

“I know.”

“So, where’s everyone else?”

“Kitchen.”

“Any pie left?”

Jamie nodded as her phone rang, “Meet you there in a minute.” She hit the answer button, “Yeah?”

“How’s Dean?”

“Hi to you too, Chuck.”

“Hi.”

“He’s good.”

“Good.” Jamie could hear the smile in his voice.

“You already knew that.”

“Er… yeah.”

“So why’d you call?”

“Uh…”

“Chuck, spit it out.”

“You’redonepushingEliotawayright?”

“Slower, dude.”

Chuck took a deep breath, “You need to be with Eliot.”

Jamie laughed, “Seriously, you’re calling to give me relationship advice?”

“I… you know I can’t explain.”

“And you know you damn well better.”

Chuck sighed, “You have to be with Eliot. And Dean needs to pull his head out his ass when it comes to Jo. Your children will do amazing things.”

Jamie cursed as the line disconnected. Next time she saw Chuck, they were going to have a long, possibly painful, chat about his habit of making a cryptic comment before hanging up and leaving her hanging.

 

**Six Months Later**

Jamie couldn’t help but smile at unusual family. Bobby’s house was a little cramped anyway, and the addition of the Christmas tree surrounded by presents didn’t help, but no one was complaining.

Hardison sat in an overstuffed chair with Parker perched on the arm in a position that would have been precarious for anyone else.

Dean was sprawled in a Lay-Z-Boy with Jo lying across his chest.

Sam sat at the kitchen table, clearly fighting the urge to roll his eyes as Cas explained all the inaccuracies and true origins of Christmas celebration practices – Eliot had threatened him with bodily harm, and Jamie had threatened him with banishment, if he breathed a word of it in Parker’s earshot.

Sophie was lying across the couch, head resting on Nate’s lap and feet resting in Bobby’s. Jamie was honestly a little horrified at how well the three of them got along, constantly swapping often embarrassing stories about all their ‘children’.

Eliot was slaving away in the kitchen. Jamie had spit her beer all over Sterling when Eliot had actually invited Ellen to help him.

Sterling was probably the oddest addition to their already odd family. The ex-demon had quickly proved that he really did consider all of them friends. He’d used his connections with Interpol to give the Leverage team new marks, and called the Winchesters when a case rubbed him as inhumane, as opposed to sending in human agents to get themselves killed. Olivia was spending Christmas with her boyfriend’s family, much to Sterling’s chagrin, and Jamie hadn’t hesitated to invite him to join them at Bobby’s.

Overall, the celebration was surreal. The size of her family had doubled, and things were as calm as they ever got in their world.  Jamie wasn’t used to making a big deal of Christmas, but this year it had just seemed right. 

Eliot wrapped his arms around her slowly growing midsection from behind and dropped a light kiss on her neck.

“What’re you thinkin’, darlin’?” he asked in her ear.

Jamie smiled and leaned back into him, “I was thinking that maybe Chuck had the right idea, badgering us to stick together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An extended version of the closing Christmas scene, and a few scenes from the missing six months are in the works, so keep your eyes open!

**Author's Note:**

> There is some violence, and reference to rather severe wounds. If anyone feels it need a stronger rating, just let me know.


End file.
